If You Like Piña Coladas
by ShizukaRen-Hime
Summary: We've heard it all before. Girl gets sucked into Naruto, girl heroically makes sure the story stays on track. Well, this girl was nearly killed in a ninja attack, and since then, she's had a change of heart. The story of a girl out to change the world...completely. AU. Pairing still undecided.
1. Scroll 1

**Chapter 1: I Can't Wait to Be On the Road Again**

"Looking for some _hot stuuuff _baby this evenin'! I need some _hot stuuuff_, baby toniiiiiiiiiiight! I want some _hot stuff_ baby this eeeeeveniiiiin'! Gotta have some hot stuff, gotta have some love toniiiiiiiiiiight! I need hot stuuuuuuuuuuuuuuff!"

Hi. My name is…actually, I don't really know what my name is at the moment. I mean, I know what the name I was born with is and all that nonsense, but that's irrelevant. You can't have a name in English when you've been sucked into a bloody Japanese comic book. It's simply not how it's done!

Well, the alias I've been using for the past two years is Madarawa Ikite, which according to Google translate means "Madara is alive," so I suppose I'll introduce myself as that. That's what my boss back at the restaurant called me, at least. Subtle, yeah?

Then again, considered a few of the other names I came up with…

"Lookin' for a lover who _needs_ a-nother, don't want another night on my own! Want to share my love with a waaarm-blooded loooveeer, wanna bring a _wiiild man_ back home!"

As I walked rather absentmindedly down the path, I was singing my bloody heart out. Not the wisest thing, when you're a being who happens to be bloody _terrified_ of ninja _and_ entirely incapable of defending yourself against them. I don't even have chakra! I mean, seriously. And those ninja types don't exactly discriminate.

But when you've been walking around for over two weeks and are running out of supplies, you almost _want_ to be found. It's times like these I wish I could walk around with a whole bloody backpack of lembas bread! I mean, a bite can keep you going for…a really long time, and it seemingly has no expiration date!

Instead, I have to lug around a backpack of plain old rice balls and curry bread. And _water_. Do you know how heavy water is, when you're carrying a substantial amount of it in skins on your back? Yeah. I thought so. But nothing get's Madarawa Ikite's spirits down!

Okay, sorry, urgh, I sounded like some peppy little original character there. Lots of stuff gets my spirits down, like being suddenly sucked into the bloody Naruto world like I were some bloody awful Sue-fic. But I've had two years to get over that, and in those two years, I've learned a lot about the value of optimism. They say a cynic is just a frustrated optimist, no? So perhaps there's hope for me after all.

I let loose an entire symphony of curse words when I tripped over…whatever it was. Looking back-and muttering something quite nasty under my breath-I realized it was a tree root. A _tree root_ of all things! I'm no stereotypical "cute" little klutz, so I'm not exactly _used_ to falling flat on my face and thus didn't take it very well.

The words that tumbled out of my mouth then were most unladylike and I'm ashamed to have said them. At least, a part of me is. The other part is still darkly grumbling about the damn tree root. Anyway! After a few minutes, I went back to singing and walking, trying to keep my mind off things.

Just letting you know, sleeping alone in the woods at night when you have ZERO survival skills is not fun. It is _scary_ as _hell_, and I certainly wouldn't recommend it for any other people-who-got-sucked-into-_Naruto_. I'm a city girl. (God, that sounds corny). But it's true.

I don't know jack shit about survival in the wilderness.

I can't even start a fucking _fire_.

With that thought rather depressingly swelling in my head, I tightened the straps of my ridiculously heavy backpack a little bit and trudged on. After all, if I don't keep walking, how will I ever get to Ame?

Exactly.

I don't know how I got here. I have no memory of the event whatsoever and quite frankly, can't be bothered to recollect it. For all I know, this is some elaborate dream my subconscious has put me into while I'm in a coma or something. I mean, it's not like that little scrap of paper I found literally _baked into_ my fortune chocolate-chip-cookie was actually a legit ticket for an inter-dimension no-expenses-paid vacation, right?

Seriously. "_In another world, in another life, you, who knows all, will have the power to change the destiny of many. That is your fate."_ Like anyone would buy that sort of BS, be they from my world or any other!

Anyway, so I was magically transported to the _Naruto_ world. After asking around, I figured out that I had landed/appeared/spawned at a little village in the Land of Earth, a few leagues northeast of Iwa. I ended up getting a job at a local restaurant there, where I planned to save up so that I could head…somewhere to find out how to go back.

You pick up a lot of random snippets of information as a waitress, especially when you're on night shift four days a week after closing to tend the bar. It was based on the conversations that I overheard that I figured out precisely where in the timeline I was.

I know it sounds terribly unexciting and all, not meeting any of the characters you know and love when sucked into the world of a book you've spent an embarrassing part of your life reading, but I wasn't a ninja and I sure as hell wasn't going to play the part of one.

So no ninja for me. Maybe, I thought back then, I'll go live in Suna one day. But no, I doubt the weather there would suit me. And eventually I hoped to at least go _see _Konoha. To not do so would have been a sin, after all.

Anyway, I was perfectly content to stay where I was. Until, that is, the little village of my residence was attacked by ninjas from Kumo.

Let me tell you, it is scary as _fuck_ to in one second realize what a jounin is _actually capable of_. The place I was staying in didn't really see ninja. Ever. Maybe the occasional, rather cocky group of chunin-that-never-were. Let me tell you, _those types_ were a pain in the derriere! Honestly. And such unbelievably arrogant flirts! A real pain.

But anyway, so we were attacked by ninjas from Kumo and one of them nearly took my life. I mean, he literally saw me scrambling for a hiding place and decided, with little ceremony or evidence of reasoning, to kill me. He didn't even have the decency to kill me properly, he just threw a kunai at my back while I was unaware. A ninja from Iwa knocked it away from me with his own kunai before it hit me and engaged the enemy ninja.

He died. He probably knew he was outclassed but fought the bastard anyway. I think that was my real wake-up call. I knew him. I _knew _him. He was Akarashi Tenzo, he was a chunin that never was, but he was a decent and good person. He was always kind to me, at any rate, and he was sweet. And then, he was gone.

The enemy turned back to me and then I thought that my life was over. I got lucky again, this time in form of a tall and dangerous-looking man falling seemingly out of nowhere and stabbing the guy who had killed Tenzo-san in the back. Three children watched in admiration and I, quite frankly, was sick to my stomach, losing my early breakfast onto the floor right in front of where the body fell.

I didn't sleep that night, even once the village was declared safe again. I had nightmares and if I was drifting in and out of an uneasy rest, my conscious mind was filled with thoughts that were even worse.

I don't know what it was that brought me to my conclusion, whether it was the experience itself or its aftermath, but shortly afterward, I decided I could not longer live in the village as I had been doing. I needed some form of protection against the world of ninjas I had come upon. The question, then, was _from who_?

I considered several possibilities, of course. If I were going to go somewhere, I would go either to Konoha or Suna. I wasn't sure about Konoha, though, because though there were people there that I loved and practically _knew_, I am most definitely a civilian and I don't fancy my chances of survival when Orochimaru wrecks the place. Suna was a possibility, but one that for some reason gave me pause.

I don't know what it was, but I felt somehow as if I weren't meant to be there.

Somehow, I got to evaluating my own value. I mean, I'm miles ahead of the future, thanks to the books and the specific time frame I was dropped into this world in, and I had a dangerously specific knowledge of the characters. Well enough, at least, to know how they would respond to a situation and the like.

It was too risky to write things down, but at least half of my knowledge was ingrained into my psyche and would never be forgotten. It was easy enough to just run through what I knew every night before bed, so I made a habit of it.

In any case, I had the potential to be a very valuable commodity and I knew it.

I don't know when I began toying with the idea of going to the Akatsuki, but the more I considered it, the more I was enticed by the possibilities. For one, I loved the Akatsuki. So meeting them was like, a dream of mine. For another, they were precisely the evil sort of people that would ruthlessly take advantage of my knowledge.

Another was that, well, every devoted Akatsuki fan wishes at least at one point in their lives that they could somehow magically save their favorite characters, right? Well, if I revealed my knowledge, I would be changing the course of the future. Ergo, it doesn't matter if I change it completely, right? Maybe?

It's dangerous to meddle. I know. But…it was so _conceivable_ a notion. And maybe, I could change things to help the other characters I loved so well. No, not characters. _People._

I decided, then, to make my way to Ame to set up an audience with Pein. I figured that since I had more than adequate proof of what I claimed to know, I could just…blurt it out all at once and hopefully intrigue him enough to make him, you know, not kill my ass then and there.

Plus, that way, I could secure an audience with Tobi/Madara. In which case, I'd either for certain be killed, at the very least taken prisoner, or-and this would be a genuine miracle-be accepted as, not a member, obviously, but maybe a subordinate or something.

It was a plan, and that was all I had. I collected my two years of savings (which were, quite surprisingly, a lot), and packed my meager possessions and left, bound for Ame.

According to what the map said, I basically needed to walk straight south for a while to get there. No big deal, I thought. I'm not so stupid that I don't understand that the sun rises in the east and sets in the west, and at night I could just keep walking away from the North star, provided they had the same constellations there. I could totally handle it. Right?

If it was as easy as it sounded, I wouldn't be lost right now. I'm really confused, you know. I mean, I _know _I made it as far as the outskirts of Grass, but as far as I knew, Grass was a tiny country, and I've been walking for nearly as long now as I did trying to get there.

I hate the world.

As much, though, as I might make light of my situation, things were getting a little worrisome. I was running out of food, and there wasn't any sign of civilization in sight. What the hell am I supposed to do then? I don't even want to _think_ about-

I was pulled out of my reverie by a hand grabbing me by the throat.

Oh. This shit is getting old.

"Who the hell are you?"

Glowing green eyes set in a masked face glared at me menacingly. And I swear, in that millisecond he looked at me, I could practically _see_ him make the decision to kill me. _Fuck_.

"WAIT! KAKUZU-SAMA, WAIT! Don't kill me! I've been looking for you everywhere, dammit!"

Not strictly true, but I'd been desperate for any sign of _people_ and my ultimate goal _was_ the Akatsuki. I thought as quickly as possible, because Kakuzu was seemingly in a foul mood and his expression and tightening grip around my throat basically told me that he didn't give a shit about anything I might have to say and would happily end my life then and there.

"I know who you are! I know that you've been alive from the time of the first Hokage! I know you were a samurai! I know you have five hearts, and I know that each one allows you control of a different chakra nature thing! I know you're in the Akatsuki and that's why I've been looking for you! I'm trying to get to Rain so that I can speak with your leader!"

As an afterthought, when he showed no particular interest in releasing me, gulped.

"And I know that you're the Akatsuki's financer and whatnot? And that you love money and are probably on a mission right now collecting bounties? I don't have a bounty on my head, but I have information that is potentially highly valuable for Pein-sama!"

I don't know what he was thinking, but at least he dropped me. I twisted my knee trying to land on my feet. Not my ankle, my_ knee_. He didn't say anything about what I knew, and I wondered, somewhat anxious, if that was common knowledge or in the bingo book or something. But…he wasn't strangling me, so maybe…

"Kakuzu! What the fuck is taking you so long, bastard? And who the hell is this bitch?"

And, once again, my life was in danger. If they kept it up at this rate, I was seriously going to end up completely jaded and apathetic to attempts on my life. Really. As it was, though, I wasn't quite at that stage and panicked, thinking fast.

And then, it hit me.

"Get away from me, heathen! Lord Jashin would have your fucking balls on a pike for threatening a believer such as myself!"

Hey, coming to the Naruto world, my belief in Jashin had been cemented. Honestly, I thought everyone else were total dumb asses for not realizing that, if he was capable of giving someone real, testable, proven immortality, he had to exist. Not that I'd start sacrificing people or small animals, but I believed.

Hidan's face was priceless.

"What the _fuck_ did you just say?"

I (quite audaciously, especially for one of my character) pushed his scythe away.

"I said you're going to hell, fucker~"

Okay, so maybe I was having a little fun. As he stared at me, flabbergasted, I made a show of blinking and curtseyed like I would upon meeting a member of the Royal Family, sweeping my right foot behind my left ankle and bending my knees, head inclined graciously.

"I apologize, Hidan-sama. You took me by surprise and I did not have the opportunity to realize it was you. Please forgive me. I shouldn't have been so disrespectful in front of a priest of Jashin. My name is Madarawa Ikite, Hidan-sama. At your service."

Once again, _flabbergasted_.

"I-what?"

Rather than respond, I decided not to ruin the effect of my speech and waited. After a few minutes, he had his scythe to my neck again.

"Where the fuck is your rosary, then?"

I sighed, exasperated.

"If I had my own rosary and could talk to Jashin, do you think that I would be respectful to you because you're a priest? No, because then we'd be equals. I can't do sacrifices for Lord Jashin. That's why I'm not a priestess. I'm simply a believer. Like an altar girl, maybe."

He looked a little skeptical, but I simply went on.

"You know, getting the hard to reach places during the service?"

I mimed stabbing someone in the back, and Hidan glared at me suspiciously, apparently deciding to conference with his god on his rosary phone_. Hey, Jashin? If you're listening, I could never do what he does. I believe in you, though. Hell, you might even have been the one who brought me here, I don't know. I know you're real. Could I maybe help your most devoted/only follower out with his sacrifices? You know, in lieu of doing my own? But without the immortality perk, of course. Just to be your follower?_

I personally didn't receive an answer, and Hidan was still busy. I shrugged. _Do I at least get, advise-Hidan-not-to-kill-me points for being a bit more cunning than most?_

No response.

"You aren't lying."

It wasn't a question and it wasn't a statement. I looked at Hidan.

"No?"

He slowly pocketed his rosary and then suddenly clapped me on the back. I swear, that man could break your shoulder doing that. Seriously. He grinned.

"You're not a heathen bitch, after all. So where the fuck is it you're heading? Jashin-sama said you were trying to get somewhere important."

Forget flabbergasted. I, personally, was _gob smacked. And had suddenly been converted to a devoted follower of Jashinism_. I mean, it was so…easy. Imagine that.

"Rain. I'm trying to get to Ame to meet with Pein-sama."

Hidan frowned.

"We're not heading that way now. We have our ways of talking to the bastard, though, if its that urgent. What the fuck does a believer like you want with him?"

I shook my head.

"Thank you very much, Hidan-sama, but I need to meet Pein-sama in person. Astral projection isn't appropriate for my situation. I greatly appreciate your consideration, though."

Hmm, was I supposed to know about their hologram things? A little flippantly, I decided that if that was classified information, at least it proved the point I was earlier trying to make to Kakuzu as a reason as to why he should spare my life. After all, even if I _was_ a spy, they'd probably take me back to Pein just to see how I managed to gather so much intel.

_It is an interesting plan that you have, girl. Hidan will take you to Rain. Lord Jashin is merciful and caring to those that believe._

My mouth practically popped open. Did _Jashin_ just pull that freaky mind-speak thing on me? Before I had the chance to even _try_ to respond, a wicked laughter erupted in my head and faded away. Wait…hadn't Hidan just said they _weren't_ going to Ame?

Hidan blinked and was seemingly released from some sort of reverie.

"Hey! Kakuzu!"

The masked man grumbled under his breath, and I got the distinct impression when he didn't answer that he was teetering between control over his murderous impulses and the little bit of reason that said that stopping to incapacitate Hidan and perhaps kill me was a waste of time, and time was money, after all. Hidan didn't appreciate being ignored.

"Kakuzu, you dumb fuck, don't fucking ignore me when I'm talking to you!"

It seemed to me like a nearly impossible thing to do, since Hidan was so loud, but Kakuzu was making a most valiant effort. Hidan pestered him and threatened him until he just about snapped and wheeled around.

"_What is it that you want, imbecile?_"

Hidan scoffed.

"Don't take that tone with me, asshole. We need to take Ikite to Ame. Jashin-sama has commanded it."

Even I could tell, instinctively, that it was a very bad thing to say to Kakuzu then.

"Your false god isn't my problem. We have work to do. We're not going to waste any anyway. We're going after the target and that's that."

Hidan did not approve.

"That's bullshit! I told you, Jashin-sama said, _take her to Rain. _So I'm going to fucking take her to Rain, got that? And since you're my partner, you can just fucking tag along."

There was a moment of tense silence-or rather, smug silence from Hidan and you-have-just-crossed-the-line silence from Kakuzu-and I had a sudden, vitreous feeling in my stomach that very clearly let me know that this couldn't end any way but badly.

On the plus side, no one's trying to kill me?

I Can't Wait to Be On the Road Again/End.


	2. Scroll 2

**Chapter 2: Singing in the Rain**

Believe it or not, the majority of the journey to Rain was lost to me in a whirlwind of scheming and plotting. From my part, of course. You see, I was beginning to form a _plan_.

A _great_ plan.

But enough about that, I'll tell you all about it later. When I have an idea of whether or not its going to be feasible. You know, like, after I actually get to meet Madara-sama, now that I've gotten through Pein?

Oh yeah, sorry. So, Kakuzu and Hidan started fighting (no surprise there) and actually managed to forget all about me (thank Jashin). After Kakuzu stabbed Hidan through the kidney with his thread, I told Hidan not to worry about it.

He didn't respond very well to that either.

"What the fuck? Of course I'm taking you to fucking Rain. Jashin-sama said, _take her to Rain_, so I'm going to fucking take you to Rain, got that?"

There was some more fighting, Kakuzu tried to kill me (funny how that happens, huh?), Hidan stopped him and went spare (apparently fellow believers are precious commodities?) and the issue was at last resolved when Hidan managed to so infuriate Kakuzu that in a fit of rage, the masked former Waterfall-nin basically told him to get the hell out of his sight.

Hidan was ridiculously chirpy and smug on our rather lengthy trip to Rain, and it seemed that he had more than enough chakra to sustain a clone to travel with Kakuzu for that length of time. Smug because of what he considered a victory over Kakuzu and chirpy because of the genuine interest I showed in his-our?-religion.

What time I didn't spend asking questions and being educated about the ways of Jashinism, I spent planning. It was, all in all, a pleasant trip, and it made me feel that I had made the right choice. Even if it was just to save this foul-mouthed homicidal maniac. And that I thought to myself with genuine fondness.

We had even spoken of getting me my own rosary, although I was adamant in making sure he understood that I _could not_ sacrifice anyone. It was simply beyond me and whatever meager skills I might have in the area of murder.

That said, I also assisted him in one of his rituals. Why? Because Lord Jashin told me to. I was standing by as Hidan stabbed himself through the stomach, apparently reveling in the pain it brought him, watching uncomfortably as an enemy shinobi from Cloud (quite ironically) squealed like a stuck pig as he writhed on the ground, when I heard Jashin's voice in my head.

Again.

_Go to him and participate, altar girl._

And he _laughed _again in my head. I waited for a moment, unsure of what to do. Jashin couldn't seriously expect me to just _go over and stab him_, could he? I was saved from this worry by Hidan's exuberant voice drowning out even the sinister chuckles in my head.

"Hey! Do you wanna try it? Imagine-your first sacrifice! Jashin-sama would be pleased."

As weird and generally _freaky_ as it sounds to say it, I found that I couldn't say no to that face. Which is bizarre, because agreeing meant stabbing the person that face belonged to.

"Okay. If it pleases Jashin-sama."

Which, of course, I knew it would do for a _fact_. After my little surge of affection, I realized that I had just been ordered by…my god? I suppose? If I believe in Jashin and am apparently a Jashinist, does that mean I can abandon my other beliefs? Or does that make me polytheistic? That's not exactly one of the questions I found it safe to ask Hidan while we walked. No, not at all. Anyway, it was then that I realized that I had been both ordered and asked to inflict bodily harm on another living (albeit immortal) creature.

Right.

"It's really damn easy, too. You'll have no trouble with it. Do you have any sort of weapon?"

I reached down into my boot, pulling out a heavily bandaged knife.

"I have this," I offered rather meekly.

Hidan didn't seem too impressed by my steak knife (courtesy of the restaurant), but waved me over nonetheless. I tried not to deliberate too much on choosing where to stab-in fact, I gave it nearly no thought as I tried to instill in myself the necessary will to actually go through with stabbing him. In the end, I'm rather ashamed to say, I closed my eyes.

Stabbing someone in the back is actually easier than you'd expect. Once you manage to muster the vital strength, the blade just…slips in. The psychological impact is much greater. I was practically hyperventilating as I watched the blood pour out of Hidan's back, watching him writhe in pleasure. I had just _stabbed_ someone.

Once again, I heard that laughter in my head.

"That was great, Ikite! That's the fucking stuff right there!" he groaned, grinning.

_Well done_.

I didn't sleep that night. And as I heard the shriek of anguish from the sacrifice, that soul-shattering, unearthly yell that corresponded to me sinking my knife into Hidan's back, I realized that, albeit through a medium of sorts, I had killed a person.

It was a terrifying, utterly horrific idea to burden, especially, I think, for a civilian. If I were a ninja, I would have steeled myself and gotten over it. At least then, I suppose, I could have defended myself against my conscience by saying it was for the good and safety of the village. But I wasn't and it wasn't.

I don't know how to explain it. What's worse is…once I overcame my initial shock, I was more appalled by the fact that it didn't bother me anymore. I murdered someone in cold blood and didn't care any more. It wasn't a nice feeling.

Looking back on it, though, I don't think that I would be able to go through with my plans if I hadn't learned that little lesson on ruthlessness then. Hidan did teach me how to care for my sacrificial weapon, which was apparently my steak knife, and promised to get me something better in the near future. Apparently, I would need to "consecrate" it or something.

Steak knives aren't appropriate, he said, for such uses. While I agreed, I was rather fond of the thing and asked if I could have something similar. It was serrated, and in some sick, twisted way, I found that pretty. When I voiced this thought, Hidan grinned and clapped me (painfully) on the back.

"That's how a believer thinks, Madarawa. That is how a fucking believer thinks."

We reached Rain relatively quickly, or so I thought. It turned out that when I made it to the Grass Village, I somehow made an about face and ended up wandering near an Akatsuki base, traveling between Waterfall and Sound and heading north on a peninsula. He showed me the mistake I had apparently made on the map.

My interview with Pein was…interesting, to say the least. For one, when we arrived, we were met by Konan, who tore right into Hidan about leaving Kakuzu with a single contemptuous look at me, and it was made obvious that Pein was going to _kill_ Hidan for abandoning his partner and his mission. I surprised myself, then, with a confidence I didn't know I had.

Or maybe it was sheer stupidity.

"It's my fault, Konan-sama. I will take full responsibilities for Hidan-sama's actions when I speak with Pein-sama." I offered rather mildly.

Of course, it _couldn't_ have been that easy and, _once again_, a ninja was trying to kill me. While Hidan protested loudly and in a most uncouth manner in the background, Konan held a piece of paper to my throat that I knew to be as deadly as Hidan's scythe. It was kind of funny, actually, but my heart rate only sped up a little. Taking the greatest care possible to be quiet (not that I thought Hidan would hear me over his swearing and somehow sweet verbal defense of my life), I told Konan in very blunt terms that I knew all about her, Yahiko, and Nagato and asked that she please take me to Pein immediately.

Actually, that's _exactly_ what I said.

She didn't appreciate this at all and I guess Hidan could tell because he actually stopped ranting and came over to us, demanding that she let me go in less than courteous terms. She ignored him.

"If you are lying, you will be dead where you stand."

I sighed.

"Do I look like I don't know that? Hell, you could probably beat me into the floor before you trained with your master. I didn't come here as a spy. I came…"

I debated it for a moment and decided to throw caution to the wind.

"I came to speak with Pein-sama and a certain subordinate. Tobi."

I did a mental victory dance when she nodded once, abruptly, and pulled me into some dark, menacing building. I won't lie, I kind of lost track of Hidan after that. It was actually kind of tedious after that. Pein was confused as hell as to why Konan had brought me to him, not that any smidgeon of emotion showed on his dead-person face so without much ceremony, I asked that Tobi be brought to us and waited. When the hyper little ball of energy had arrived, I rather drably introduced myself.

"My name is Madarawa Ikite."

I dragged out the Madarawa part so it sounded more like Madara…wa Ikite. Just to get my point across. I then, after making sure I was in a secure location and that there were no one present other than Pein, Konan, and a jittery (and watching me like a hawk through that mask) Tobi, proceeded to relate to Pein and Konan their personal history.

It was Pein who "snapped" first and threatened my life. I hardly reacted, but I knew better than to mouth off and I wasn't that jaded yet. He demanded I explain how I knew that he was Nagato in Yahiko's body, how I knew about his parents, the dog, the Rain orphans and their training with Jiraiya. Everything. So I told them I was from another world and that I knew all of the future of this world and that I would further prove my story to Tobi and Tobi alone.

This request was easily acquiesced to and I was soon being interrogated. I have no shame to admit it, especially since it was my original intention in the first place, but I _sang_.

"Before I go into my lengthy explanation of what I know and the further proof I have to offer, I want you to know that I didn't _have_ to come here, to the Akatsuki, with my knowledge. Nor did I come here because I wanted to be on the winning side of the war you're going to cause.

I had planned to stay out of everything and let the story progress for itself. I lived in a little village in the Land of Earth and cared nothing for any involvement in the books I had read. After an attack on the village in which I was threatened by a ninja, I changed my mind and selfishly decided to seek protection. There were other places I could go, but I chose to come here because you are doomed to fail."

So, technically, I didn't have any concrete evidence that they would fail, but the manga was called _Naruto_ and I doubted that it would end with Tobi winning. So I went on.

"The Akatsuki are too precious to me for me to abandon you and condemn you to your fate. I will help you. By coming here, I have changed the future. I know that. No one subtle change, though, will turn the odds in your favor. No, I came because I know that even when the future has been changed so much that it is unrecognizable to me, I can still be of use.

Right now, I know the game. By coming here, I expect I have changed the game. But regardless of what board it is played on, I know the pieces, I know how their minds work, I know the sort of strategies they'll apply to counter yours, how they'll react in certain situations. And if I don't _know_, I can provide you with a few possibilities.

I'm no shinobi. But I can be of _use_. In return, I ask for your protection and the opportunity to change things. The knowledge I have is dangerous and my understanding of the characters I've read about isn't something I can simply rattle off to you. It's instinctive. Keep me here until you trust me, keep me safe from harm, and I will be your advisor."

Tobi leaned against a desk, his sunny, childish pretense dropped in light of my knowing who he really was. Or claimed to be. As you like it. When he didn't say anything, I started to babble. I told him everything I had read about the bijuu and the Eye of the Moon Plan, I told him what little information there was on Madara Uchiha, I explained what I knew of his power…And then I did something that I figured was dangerously bold, but necessary.

The sort of thing that would make or break the deal I had going.

"Also…_Madara-sama_, in the book, Madara Uchiha was brought back from the dead using the Impure World Resurrection technique. Which is only possible when there is a soul, the soul of a dead man, to plant into a body."

I was playing with fire and I damn well knew it.

"That said, I won't tell anyone. Ever."

He laughed, and it was so strangely like Jashin's for a moment that I thought the god was speaking to me again. But no, it was Tobi's, and as he laughed he approached me with some apparent interest.

"You'll need a new name, I think."

Of course I did.

"Sure. Apparently 'Ikite' is much to masculine for me. I might keep it as a surname, I suppose, since I have grown rather fond of it…"

He laughed, more loudly and maybe a little more sincerely than before.

"You're a strange one."

"I do what I have to. Nothing more if I can help it, nothing less if I have any say in it."

We were silent as he watched me, until I simply couldn't bear not speaking.

"What will you do with me, then? Will you let me help?"

He motioned for me to have a seat and quite nonchalantly offered me a drink. I stared at him unsurely, before politely accepting. I wasn't quite sure what it was, but I figured poisoning me was beneath him so I drank anyway. Sipped more like, but I digress. It was sweet and didn't taste like alcohol, but rather like some sort of exotic fruit, fragrant and delicious.

"Thank you." I said quietly, glancing up at him as he drank his own, leaning against the desk.

"You haven't lied once this evening. Perhaps…skirted around the truth once or twice, but I'm sure you have your reasons. Some would see that as foolish. Playing all your cards at once, and in a place where you know you will be killed before you are allowed to leave now that you've revealed how dangerous you could potentially be."

Right when I was beginning to think he had decided to off me then and there, he came over to me and ruffled my hair.

"It's refreshing, to see someone as honest as that. Relax. You're tense."

I laughed.

"Well, putting your life on the line for the hope that the people you want to help will accept you isn't exactly a trip to the spa."

He let out a rather dark chuckle that set me on edge again, making me wearily watch him as I took another sip of my drink.

"I will consider your proposition. Until you receive my answer, you will remain here."

His tone brooked no room for argument and I didn't really think any was necessary. He knew I was being honest, so I hoped that this was a formality of sorts. Because if it wasn't, I had a feeling I was going to be a very miserable person for the rest of my life. Or something like that. I knew, at least, that I for sure wasn't going to be the idiot that tries to sneak out because they've got a bad case of cabin fever.

I wasn't introduced to any other Akatsuki and I didn't see Hidan in the days that followed. Well, I supposed that I wouldn't be toted around to be personally introduced to each and every member, even if it was for that ridiculous, "so that they know not to kill you" reason. All it really took was a word from Tobi to Pein.

I suppose its lucky that I'm not exactly the type to _get_ cabin fever. Give me things to entertain myself and I'll stay inside forever. Or at least until I'm bored. That and I'm too lazy and heat-hating to actually do stuff. That's probably the reason I'm so damn pasty.

In complexion, I mean.

I fell asleep six, maybe seven times before someone came to get me. Which doesn't say much about how long it actually was, because I keep rather odd and unreliable sleeping hours. But when Tobi came to get me, I just looked at him a little morosely and asked, "Well?"

I can't prove it, but I swear he grinned at me under that stupid mask.

"You just might be the most utterly boring prisoner I've ever taken captive."

I shrugged.

"You try being shut up in a waiting room-like establishment, see if you do anything fun."

"I don't get taken captive. Ever." His tone brooked no room for argument.

I nodded.

"I can believe that. So…what happens now?"

Well excuse me for being anxious about my future. Tobi was apparently entertained by my abrupt subject change and I could practically feel that lazy and somehow adversely dangerous aura oozing out of the serious man in front of me when he responded.

"Now you begin doing what you said you would."

I raised an eyebrow.

"Which is…?"

"Advise me."

Dear Jashin, the man was practically purring behind that mask. Scary. Despite being successfully disconcerted by his random attack on my already fragile psyche, I was more than ready to answer. I had been planning this, dammit, like a freaking mad genius!

"The Eye of the Moon is doomed to failure. Have the people of Rain announce that the civil war is over and has been over. The fact that you kept this from the other countries will instantly inspire distrust. Which is precisely why you'll be doing it.

Claim that the Rain village has been putting _every_ _effort possible_ into getting back on its feet and all that. No one will believe you to be a threat. They'll watch you, yes, but they won't get anywhere. Set up a puppet Lord of Rain or something. Either someone you can control or someone you can trust. Knowing you, you'll probably do the former.

Kakuzu is one of the most valuable assets you'll have at your disposal at that time. He knows money. Put him in charge of sabotaging foreign economies. If anyone can do it, its him. Rain has a lot of potential and it is populated with people who literally worship Pein.

It's perfect. Ally with Konoha and Suna. Actually, no, just Konoha. If you can get me to Konoha during the time of the chunin exams, preferably with one or two of the others as my guard if you can spare them, I can get you Suna. In fact…"

I pondered it for a moment, my thoughts whirling in my head in a way that was no where near as majestic as a hurricane and somehow more similar to a toilet being flushed.

"If you send me to Orochimaru's place as the official Akatsuki ambassador…I can give you Konoha on a platter, for a time, at least. Once we're allied with Konoha and Suna, we can start a war. Earth and Lightning can be pushed into an alliance and we can conquer them easily if we use Leaf and Suna as well as Rain. You'll have to relinquish control of Leaf at one point, but we'll make sure that everything is set up to be favorable to us before its done. If I succeed at the chunin exams, Suna and its next Kazekage will be allies we can trust.

And then, well, what could stop you after that point? And I know you don't need the entire bijuu to recreate the Ten Tails, so I ask that you spare Shukaku…the Nine Tails too."

He started laughing then, so loud I nearly fell out of my own skin. It was so…unnerving a laugh that I thought that he had changed his mind. He didn't.

"Well, advisor. It seems you are of more use alive after all."

Singing in the Rain/End.


	3. Scroll 3

**Chapter 3: I Have a Way With Words and Manipulation**

Tobi kept me in that room for nearly three days, listening as I outlined my plan, expounded on the finer points of it, and explained anything that needed to be explained. It was odd, but I must have gotten so used to him that I was beginning to become capable of _reading_ him. To a certain extent, at least.

Enough to tell, for sure, that he was _pleased_ with what I offered him.

I worked with Pein a lot, and Konan too, who seemed to be happy to have me around. Not, I think, simply because I was another girl, but because it seemed that I was the only person other than Nagato who didn't have a killing-things complex or something equally characteristic of the Akatsuki. It was nice.

Eventually, though, I heard that a bridge was being built in the Land of Waves. (It was being discussed by a few merchants who were eating at the same ramen stand I had stopped at on one of my bi-monthly outings to the outside world). That started me right back up and actually resulted in me hurrying back to the base and attempting to hunt down that loveable nutcase that was Tobi…'s alternate persona.

It's a lot harder than you'd think.

"TOBI? TOBIIIIIIIIIIIII! WHERE ARE YOU?"

I swear, he just sits there laughing at me until I'm ready to give up.

"Ikite-chan! Ikite-chan was calling Tobi, and Tobi came as soon as he heard because Zetsu said I was a good boy, aren't I? Tobi is a good boy!"

Came _as soon as I called him_ my _ass_.

"Of course you are. Now come on, I need your ninja skills for a minute."

He tilted his head to the side _adorably_.

"With what, Ikite-chan? How could Tobi help?"

I shuddered.

"There's a cockroach in my room, Tobi. Didn't you hear me scream earlier?"

If he wasn't wearing the mask, I would have said he blinked, slowly, as if trying to understand what it was that I had just said.

"But why does Ikite-chan need Tobi? It's just a bug."

I screamed in frustration and stamped my foot.

"It's disgusting, Tobi! What do you think I want you to do with it? I need you to kill it!"

He was still for a moment, as if considering this, and then suddenly clapped his hands together excitedly and started screaming himself (albeit it was that he could finally prove himself worthy, etc. etc.) and jumping up and down. Without warning, he grabbed me by the waist (like I was a sack of bloody potatoes, imagine that!) and teleported to my room.

"You have _got_ to warn people before you do that!" I growled unamused by the way my room was spinning around me like a really fast carnival ride. Figuratively, of course.

"What happened?"

Straight to business. Although I could never quite figure out how he could go from one personality to another as quickly, but…I adopted his policy instantly.

"I heard that they've started building a bridge in the Land of Waves."

I paused, unsure of how he would take my request and kind of hoping that he would ask why this was important or give me _some_ way, _any_ way of broaching the subject. Of course, he didn't. He was silent, patient, as he waited for me to explain. Jackass.

"If I am to go to Orochimaru, now is the time."

To my rather modest surprise, he nodded rather carelessly.

"What do you need?"

I didn't even have to think about it.

"Itachi and Kisame if you can spare them. They'll guarantee that at least the trip goes by without incident whether successful or not."

He nodded again.

"That is acceptable. Pein will be informed. Anything else?"

Er, I knew down to my fingertips that this was going to be awkward, but…

"I've been thinking of who I plan to collect and it occurred to me that, if you had no issue with it, I could perhaps have my own bodyguard. I have a candidate in mind, and with your permission, I would bring him back with me when I return."

There was interest in his voice, a lot of it.

"Oh?"

I drummed my fingers almost nervously against my desk.

"I won't bring him back with me if I judge him to be a possible danger."

Tobi airily waved a hand, leaning against my room wall.

"Do as you wish. I trust you, woman, because I have looked into your heart and mind and seen where your loyalties lie. Pick whatever pieces you choose and assemble them as you wish."

I bobbed my head in gratitude.

"Thank you, Tobi-sama."

He paused for a moment, as if considering what I said. Then:

"Call me Madara when in front of Pein and those that know. Can't have them _wondering_."

Being, of course, the unstoppable Tobi of pwnage, (or something like that? Or, more likely, something not like that at all), he didn't wait for a response before teleporting out of the room. Probably going to let Pein know.

Yawning, I decided to just go to sleep.

In hindsight, I suppose it was the wisest decision I could have made, because Tobi, that utter _bastard_, ensured that I left at first light. And when I say "first light" I assure that I am in no way joking. What is it with ninjas and the crack of dawn, anyway?

It was actually my first time working with Itachi and Kisame. In fact, it was also my first time _meeting_ them. Kisame and I got along pretty well, I thought, joking like old pals. It was fun. Itachi was silent and very, _very_ reserved. Like, expectant-mother-parking reserved. Which, I suppose, was to be expected as I was some random person that had suddenly been made a part (not a member, though, so no shiny new ring for me) of the Akatsuki.

And he was still trying to protect Konoha.

On my mental to-do list, I made it a point to add _let Itachi know I know etc._ to the list. As such, though, journey to Sound took a long time and was generally awful because I'm a girl and both of them are guys and…all that. Going to the restroom, and I use that term _lightly_, was mortifying. But eventually, we got there and then Orochimaru apparently decided to grace us with his incredible presence.

Yes, that was sarcastic. From what I understood, he had been mucking around hiding from us (because of Itachi) and then realized we were going to make ourselves comfortable and eat all his food until we saw him and changed his mind. Wow, that was a mouthful.

Anyway, at that point, I made a show of introducing myself as the official Akatsuki Ambassador and we sat down and had some (hopefully not poisoned) tea, just the way I liked it. Nice and friendly, you know? I feel that its best to set up a comfortable environment before you drop a figurative bomb on someone.

In order to avoid boring you, I told him I was from a world where his life was part of a comic book, and he took it rather splendidly, all things considered. Looked like he was going to try and do that nasty body transfer jutsu on me but a scary as HELL glare from aforementioned Uchiha badass was enough to curve even that strongest of urges.

"Why are you here, then, Miss Ikite?"

To be fair, I supposed it was really unexpected, but I had wasted all the time proving my origins and discussing them and I had _not_ done that for nothing.

"About that invasion your planning against Leaf. I need your help and you need mine. Simple."

He raised an eyebrow.

"_I_ need _you_?"

I shrugged.

"Unless you would prefer to kill the Third Hokage at the cost of using jutsu, yes."

My expression matched his earlier one as I rather airily waved my hand, pretending I didn't know that behind me Itachi's mind was reeling. Because you know it was. Orochimaru apparently didn't stop to think about this either, although he had no reason to even suspect that Itachi might have a problem with the Third dying and whatnot. He leaned forward.

"_If_ I were to agree with you, what is it that you have in mind to circumvent such a…tragedy?"

I smiled.

"Even if I told you, you wouldn't be able to do anything without us. I need a little something more concrete, Orochimaru. I believe that you could become a _great_ friend of ours in the future. And we pay friendship back with favor, if you didn't know."

He seemed to have picked something up in the undercurrent of my tone.

"I see. You must have great plans indeed, then. What is it that you want in return?"

My expression grew even sweeter than it already was against my will.

"Three things. _I_ want a jutsu, a guard, and a village. In exchange, I will give _you_ the ability to use jutsu, the opportunity to kill the Third, and will protect the Sound from…future events. As a good will gesture, you will return the ring you still have to me and I will give you your life in exchange. Traitors are, after all, not tolerated in the Akatsuki."

I nodded at Itachi and Kisame who had stepped forward when Orochimaru moved in his seat (damn ninjas and their jumpiness) and clasped my hands on the table.

"These terms are, of course, nonnegotiable."

We got everything technically wrapped up in a night, and when I finally went to sleep, I was exhausted and utterly content. I had gotten precisely what I wanted, not with little convincing, and I had done it all ahead of schedule. I slept like a log (and in the same room as Itachi and Kisame, who were apparently instructed to keep me safe and out of the wrong hands at ALL TIMES), and woke the next morning to be taken on a tour of the facilities by Kabuto.

This was, of course, a covert excuse to take me to see the man I had decided to take as my bodyguard/general assistant sort of person and everyone present knew it. Itachi and Kisame accompanied me, as usual, although I had no idea whatsoever where they were. They were hiding, you see. Because I had asked that I be permitted to speak to Kimimaro alone.

Out of a flawless sense of duty, they obliged. Honestly, I wondered what _exactly_ it was that Tobi had told Pein about my mission. But anyway…

"Who is this?"

The disdain in his voice was palpable. Somehow, it made me smile. Surreptitiously, of course. People like Kimimaro, after all, take offense at even the mere thought of people finding them a source of amusement. It's true and you know it.

Kabuto smiled rather thinly, probably fearing I'd take offense.

"Don't speak that way to Ikite-sama. She is Lord Orochimaru's honored guest."

Kimimaro raised an eyebrow at that. Because you _know_ Orochimaru doesn't ever have "honored guests." Ever. He's hardly a gracious hostess inviting the neighbors over for tea.

"Is that so? Forgive me. I am Kimimaro." He said, bowing slightly. His expression betrayed none of the suspicion and contempt he no doubt harbored for my being.

As if in retaliation, I grinned.

"Kabuto, if you would excuse us?"

I tried really hard not to laugh as Kimimaro's face grew even more wary-and you should have seen the way he betrayed himself when Kabuto bowed low and acquiesced to my request. It was brilliant.

I calmly observed a lighting fixture on the wall, waiting for Kimimaro to speak. He didn't. Judging, though, from the way his eyes sharpened and relaxed, I figured that Itachi and Kisame had actually done as I'd asked and left me to speak with Kimimaro in peace. So I took advantage of the silence before, you know, he tried to off me or something.

"If I didn't think you'd resent me for it, I would assume you're confused as to why I would ask to speak with you alone. Since I know you won't admit it, I'll just tell you."

I was pacing, then, wondering how best to say what I wanted to. It was probably going to be more effective if I was blunt, to the point, and, to better suit my plans for the future, utterly honest. I nodded to myself and turned back to him.

"Orochimaru has, essentially, given you to me. As a…gift, I suppose. To honor the agreement we have made. And I wanted to speak with you, because you are, in theory, in my service as of the moment are accord was made."

Kimimaro was, for lack of a better word, struck entirely dumb.

"You lie."

I shook my head. It was absolutely true. I had bargained him from Orochimaru, who actually let him go with little care when I reminded him of the terminal illness that would eventually kill the boy.

"No, I don't. And I admit, it was I who requested you. If he were unwilling to part with you, though, I would have immediately dropped the suggestion. I simply thought that I could give you more than Orochimaru could, and that you of all people deserved the chance."

The silence was more than palpable, it was tense and stifling with mistrust. As seemed to be my best get-people-to-trust-me tactic, I told him the truth as I had told it to Madara, explained what I was doing for Orochimaru, and why it was that I chose him.

"I simply thought that I could do exactly as he had done by giving you a purpose, only, I could give you something in return. I _care_ for you. And I know that you'll say that 'ninjas don't need affection' or something equally ridiculous about how you subsist on not having feelings, but that's all I have. I'm no shinobi. I don't consider it weakness. I consider it strength.

_But_, because I care for you, I will say this: _If_ you decide that you don't want to come with me, let me know and I will tell Orochimaru that I changed my mind and want someone else. I don't want you to feel that you have to come with me just because Orochimaru gave you to me.

Think about it. Think before you give me your final answer. I will be leaving in five days, with or without you. And please don't accuse me of trying to turn you against Orochimaru. I'm not."

Tiredly, I ran a hand through my loosened hair.

"Speak with him. If you don't want to go, tell me and I'll speak with him. But speak with him first, make sure you know what you're doing. Tell him, if you feel the need to, that I have spoken with you and would be willing to take someone else in exchange, if it ensures your happiness. But speak with him. That's all I ask."

And I left with my head held high, rendezvousing with Itachi and Kisame once I was out of the room and somehow feeling…oddly successful. Because, and I felt terrible for it, I knew that if he did as I asked and spoke to Orochimaru, he would come with me willingly. If he did as I asked, I would have the most loyal of people in my service. And, I hoped, as my friend.

We enjoyed three days milling about. And when I say we, I mean I enjoyed milling about, Kisame found the break agreeable, and Itachi stood like a statue near me at all times. It was great. Actually, it was. Orochimaru's labs were fascinating. Er, really gory and whatnot and kind of terrifying, but really interesting!

And Orochimaru, I supposed, was actually an inviting and gracious host when he decided you were potentially valuable enough to have as an ally. Is it sad that I actually found myself getting along with him?

It was on the third night that Kimimaro came back to me. I had just been sitting, reading a book gifted to me by Orochimaru when he realized my insatiable appetite for learning, when Itachi suddenly disappeared from where he was seated himself and seemingly stopped a figure at the door. He glanced up at me as if waiting for an order (really, what _had_ Tobi told Pein, because this was just ridiculous) and I blinked when I realized he had Kimimaro in a chokehold against the wall.

"Itachi, leave him, please."

He did, and Kimimaro shot him a dirty, hateful glare for it before turning his attention to me. I waited. He could speak first this time. Not me.

"I need to speak with you."

I nodded.

"Let's walk, shall we?"

I shook my head at Itachi and Kisame when they gave me the questioning sort of look that asked if I wanted them to come and set off with Kimimaro. Although you may have gathered that I'm a bit of a talkative person when there's something I feel I need or want to say, I bit my tongue as if my life depended on it because I knew he needed to speak first.

Even though the silence was killing me.

"You were telling the truth."

Well, of course I was. I don't need to _lie_ to get what I want. I always tell the truth. And oh my Jashin, that sounded so awful! But I pushed myself away from sudden thoughts of what a horrible person I was and the like to listen.

"I spoke with him. And…he told me not to ruin this for him, that you had specifically requested me, that he didn't know why since you knew I was…sick…and that I was to serve you as if you were him and…at least make myself useful to him in that way before…"

I pressed my lips together to stop myself from saying something rude about his dearly beloved "Orochimaru-sama" and instead looked concerned. (Which I was, but for his mental well-being, not because I gave a shit about his relationship with Orochimaru).

"I'm sure that he didn't mean it in a bad way. You're a powerful shinobi and are probably the most devoted man I have ever met. Speak with him. Tell him what I've told you, about you having a choice. Tell him that I wouldn't mind taking someone else if it made you happy."

His expression was something somehow unfeeling and miserable all at once.

"He said that since I would be of no use to him when my illness progresses, it is better for me to go with you now to ensure that you don't exchange me for a future host of greater worth."

Ouch. I half wanted to storm away and punch Orochimaru (preferably repeatedly) in the face, to cause him even some modicum of the pain he had caused Kimimaro with those words, but I reminded myself that it was for the best and that it was _necessary_. I sighed.

"Clearly, you don't want to come with me, and I won't force you. You will be unhappy if you leave him, and I don't want that. I couldn't do that to you."

I sighed, looking at him a little sheepishly and a little more sadly as I folded my hands behind my back and prayed that the rather risky play I was about to make would work.

"I suppose, then, that this is good-bye."

I Have a Way With Words and Manipulation/End.


	4. Scroll 4

**Chapter 4: Fortune, Baby, Favors the **_**Bold**_

I bowed to Kimimaro and smiled a little lingeringly at him before turning to walk away. I was practically sweating buckets I was so nervous, because I'd planned everything out as meticulously as possible, but it seemed so _wrong_ how well things had been going.

Surely, I would be met with failure now.

I made it to the end of the hallway and felt one-hundred percent assured that I had, at last, played the game wrongly and failed when I was suddenly able to breathe again. A hand had wrapped around my wrist and pulled me to a stop so abruptly, had Itachi and Kisame been there they would have responded to the movement as an attempt on my life.

"Kimimaro?"

I was still too convinced I'd failed to really believe it was happening.

"What is your name?"

I blinked and suddenly felt like performing a victory dance. Bingo, baby.

"For now, call me Ikite. I'm using that as my given name right now, and I don't have a surname for the moment, so forgive me for seemingly forcing informality on you."

He closed his eyes and said, "Ikite-san, I want to go with you."

I could have purred in delight at my seemingly flawless planning skills. But I didn't, because I had a job to do. An important one.

"I don't want to force you to do anything, do you understand? Don't feel pressured by me, and don't throw away everything you care about because you _think_ Orochimaru has no use for you anymore. I doubt that's true. I've told you, you've got more talent in one little pinky finger than the majority of the people in this building have as a whole."

He leveled his gaze to meet mine and looked at me rather depreciatively.

"He has no use for me. He doesn't _care_ about me and I am a shinobi and do not seek such things. But that he does not acknowledge me, now, _that_ I cannot overlook. I wish to go with you. _You_ value my talent. _You_ have a use for my skill. You offer me purpose and promise to care for me. To you, Ikite-san, I pledge my service and my life. Let me go with you."

I was stunned by his declaration. It was certainly _not_ the reaction I had been hoping for, no indeed it was not! It was far beyond it, and I hardly knew what to do with it.

"Don't say things you can't be sure you mean."

There. That was safe. That was honest, and it didn't outright reject his oath.

"I could say it standing before you now and it wouldn't mean any less to me than it would if I stood by your side for a thousand years. I will serve you. Do not turn me away out of some misguided attempt to preserve whatever false image of happiness I had here."

What the hell was I supposed to say to that?

"Well, I-I…"

I couldn't even form words in the face of his unblinking expression of intensity.

"Let me come with you."

Feeling kind of faint, I nodded.

"Er, sure."

Eloquent, no? I was spared from further shock-induced mortification by the sudden arrival of Kisame. (Itachi, I figured, was hiding in the shadows somewhere near).

"This kid bothering you, Ikite-chan?"

I shook my head, suddenly beaming.

"Not at all. Meet Kimimaro, of the Kaguya clan. My new…"

I trailed off. He was _supposed_ to be a bodyguard, but somehow that cheapened the worth of his vow to me. As if he somehow sensed this, he answered in my stead.

"Who are you?"

Or not. It was a bit rudely and a little defensively that he questioned my blue-skinned friend, moving subtly but not so subtly that I didn't notice, civilian as I was, as if to _protect_ me. From _Kisame_. That's actually kind of funny, for some reason.

I put a hand on Kimimaro's shoulder a little awkwardly, I suppose.

"He's my valet. He swore an oath to me. It's fine, Kisame. I have authorization from leader to bring him back with me. This is the guard I bargained with Orochimaru for."

Turning my attention to Kimimaro, I frowned.

"As touched as I am by how quickly you've taken to your position, I would ask that you not speak to Kisame that way. He is a valued associate, and a man I care for. The other man that I came here with is to be treated with the same respect. Kimimaro, Kisame Hoshigaki."

With a wry smile, I motioned to Kimimaro.

"Kisame, Kimimaro of the Kaguya clan."

The blue-skinned man wasn't offended in the least. Rather, he seemed amused.

"Huh, so you're one of the bone-users. I thought they were extinct."

Kimimaro bowed rather shortly and met Kisame's eye with a disinterested expression.

"Apparently not."

I introduced him to Itachi later. In order to keep Orochimaru on his toes (and, partially, because I had gotten what I wanted by Kimimaro swearing loyalty to me), I decided we would return to Rain early. It was funny how he presumed Kimimaro's reluctance in leaving had upset me, and how he thought Kimimaro had decided to follow me solely because he had told him to.

"So soon? Your intention was, I believe, to stay for another two days. Do not think you are unwelcome in my house."

There was no question of whether or not he _wanted_ me to stay. Of course he didn't. But I had made myself important, and that called for him to avoid offending me. It's funny how even among the deadliest of shinobi politics still matter.

I smiled at him, inclining my head what I kind of hoped would look graciously.

"Please, you and I are ill-suited for such frivolity. We are, if I may flatter myself and speak truthfully of you, intellectuals and I know that you will be pleased when we depart and no longer keep you from your studies. I thank you, on behalf of my companions as well, for your hospitality and for putting up with my incessant curiosity."

He smirked, slowly licking his lips with that freaky tongue of his as if in amusement.

"Intellectuals indeed. Feel free to visit, though I would prefer it if you left your…companions behind. I hope you are satisfied with Kimimaro's service?"

There may or may not have been a rather stony glint in my eye when I answered, remembering what the man before me had said to my now apparently loyal bodyguard.

"Very much so."

And we said good-bye and left.

"The prodigal daughter has returned. With good news, I trust?"

I yawned despite my strongest efforts not to, flopping down on my bed in exhaustion.

"I hope you mean prodigal as in producing ridiculous amounts of something, such as, in this case, success. Because I got what I wanted, he got what he wanted, and you got what I suppose, since you let me go, what you wanted. Unless you were hoping Oro-san would kill me or turn me into an experiment, in which case I'm not unhappy to disappoint."

He laughed. Tobi laughed. (When not in his hyperactive persona).

"I think I would have been most displeased had my advisor ended up in a test tube under the watch of Itachi and Kisame. No, I wouldn't have wanted that. I wish to meet your chosen guard. Send for him immediately."

I nodded and called rather softly for Kimimaro to enter, looking questionably at Tobi, waiting to see which persona he would use in front of him. I cleared my throat as Kimimaro walked in and looked at Tobi, waiting to see what he would do. He leaned in closer to me in a way that made Kimimaro noticeably stiffen as he approached and whispered, "I want to see him swear himself to you. Then he will know me as I am."

I nodded rather redundantly, surprised. What sort of game was Tobi playing? It made me nervous…normally, you would think that someone deciding _not to lie_ about who they are is a good thing, but it put me on edge that Tobi would do so to a person he had only just met.

"Kimimaro, this is Tobi. He will…act as a witness to attest to the fact that you swear loyalty to me. Tobi, Kimimaro of the Kaguya clan."

Imagine my surprise when I inclined my head in a lady-like manner towards my white-haired guard and turned to see Tobi's, well, mask, I suppose, since it certainly wasn't his face I'd be met with, and instead found that ridiculous orange (adorable?) abomination nuzzling my neck. Yeah. I blinked in surprise and twitched. It tickled.

"Ikite-chan picked a pretty impressive blood-limit to have in her arsenal, Tobi thinks!"

I took that as a confirmation that Kimimaro wasn't going to be seeing Tobi's true nature at any time and proceeded to make excuses for the loveably moronic persona.

"Tobi is a trusted and essential subordinate of the Akatsuki's. It was thought that it might be easier for you to swear an oath of allegiance to me while not under the strict scrutiny of Leader. I hope you will treat him courteously and with patience."

Kimimaro, quite frankly, looked disgusted and about ready to fire a digit or two of his finger bones into the eye hole in Tobi's mask. In an expressionless, apathetic way, of course. I suppose after traveling with him _constantly around or attending to my person_, you start to learn the (ridiculously) subtle nuances of his face. Despite how unimpressed he seemed with Tobi, he nodded and proceeded to kneel before me.

I actually found it ridiculously embarrassing. Actually, this whole situation is ridiculous!

"This will be my true oath to you, Ikite-san."

His gaze was so sharp and direct on my own that I found myself looking to Tobi as if for help. He sounded so _intense_ and against my will I felt a prickle of excited curiosity.

His hand went up near his face and for a moment I thought he was fixing his hair. Then I told myself to stop being stupid and watched as he pulled both of the little red beads out of his hair on the left side and placed them on the ground before me.

"With gift of rank, I pledge to you, from this day unto the end of all days, the pride of the Kaguya clan and the honor of its last son."

There was a crack and he was holding a sharp looking bone. I gasped a little at how viciously he tore open his palm with it, noting the red splatter on his white robes.

"With gift of blood, I pledge to you, from this day unto the end of all days, the descent of the Kaguya clan and the life of its last son."

With his free hand, he dug something circular-ish out of his sleeve. Really looking at it, I thought it seemed kind of like a spinal disc. It was with a rather solemn and somehow gruesome fascination that I watched him clench it in his fist (thus getting it covered in blood) and lay it with a truly terrifying amount of reverence at my feet.

"With gift of bone, I pledge to you, from this day unto the end of all days, the strength of the Kaguya clan and the command of its last son."

He looked up at me then, and I could tell, I could just _tell_ that Tobi was pleased.

"From this day unto the end of all days, I bind myself to you, blood as my blood, bone as my bone, both under the shadow of the Sentinel of Night. As the bone-singers did in the old days, when the Great Sage first came forth, I bind myself and the savagery of my line, the cruelty and ferocity of my blade, forever unto you, in this life and even unto the coldness of the void."

I had no idea what to do, and the air was so thick I could barely breathe with the way it weighed down my shoulders but instinctively I reached down and took up the bone he had cut his hand with and, closing my eyes, sliced open my palm.

Let me tell you, I totally understand why he did it in such a positively beastly manner. I knew right as I felt the bone split apart the rather rough skin of my calloused palms that if I had hesitated for even a second, I wouldn't have been able to do it.

I dropped the bone-knife and knelt before Kimimaro.

"I accept your oath and your gifts, Kimimaro of the Kaguya clan. In return, I give you the only thing I have to give."

I pressed my hand against his and could literally _feel_ the heat of his blood mingling with mine and noticed that my hand, despite my rather stern efforts to not show weakness, was shaking. I closed my eyes for a moment, dizzy.

"With gift of blood, I pledge to you, from this day unto the end of all days, my undying faith."

And I smiled. I don't know why, but in that moment, I couldn't help it. I beamed. Not because I was pleased at my apparent success but rather because I knew that I meant it. I absolutely meant it. I wondered, staring at his _almost_ impassive face, if that was the closest he'd ever come to returning such an expression.

"From this day unto the end of all days, I bind myself to you, my blood as yours, my bone as yours, under the shadow, with you, of the Sentinel of Night. I bind myself to the last son of the Kaguya clan, to the savagery of his line, the cruelty and ferocity of his blade, and take him with pride into my service, in this life and the eternal coldness of the void."

I at last pried my hand from his, my expression still so suddenly inexplicably happy and whole, and stood.

From behind me came a slow, amused clapping.

"Ikite, truly you have an instinct for worth. Imagine, taking the heir of the Kaguya Clan into your service as a bodyguard. And for the boy to use _that oath_. I'm impressed."

Kimimaro whirled to his feet with such violent grace that I felt as if I'd gotten whiplash watching him. I glanced back at Tobi, picking up the "gifts" I had just been given.

"I really wish you'd be a little more specific when you tell me what you're planning. Kimimaro, this is Tobi. I will explain the truth to you now. If you will excuse us…?"

I was stopped by a hand on my shoulder, gripping it rather tightly and threateningly and in a flash, Kimimaro was holding that hand as if he were threatening to break it. Which he probably was. I sighed warily.

"Kimimaro, please step aside."

It looked like I'd physically hurt him by saying it, but he did as I asked.

"Very good. I imagine Ikite would have been rather upset if I'd had to kill you because you were too overzealous in your duty. She doesn't, after all, know precisely the value of the oath you just swore to her."

His grip on my shoulder lessened, and I felt Tobi pull me back into him, into his embrace. I rolled my eyes at the possessiveness radiating off of him.

"You're going to give him the wrong idea. And I don't appreciate you playing with him like this. Our business is between us. Don't drag him into it."

Tobi chuckled with some dark amusement evident in his voice.

"I simply wanted to ensure that he wouldn't interfere with our plans due to such a vehement concern for your well-being. I approve."

And he disappeared in a cloud of smoke and as soon as he was gone, my knees literally gave out beneath me in relief. He said he approved. He _approved_. That meant-that meant so many things! My head was spinning in vicious, violent _relief_.

I was so suddenly pleased I hadn't realized that Kimimaro hadn't let me fall.

"Ikite-san?"

I laughed a little recklessly.

"Thank you-"

I let him lead me to my bed to sit. Tobi had okayed him. Tobi had _revealed his true self before him_. Kimimaro…he was safe. Tobi saying he approved was essentially the same thing as saying that Kimimaro was under my sole jurisdiction…that he wasn't tied up with the Akatsuki save for in the capacity of serving me.

"I have a lot to explain, now, Kimimaro. A lot to explain. But from this moment forward, I will never have to lie to you again. I apologize for that."

He looked at me from where he stood and I patted the mattress beside me.

"Sit. Now, I'll tell you _everything_."

I didn't look at him as I spoke. I didn't need to. I told him everything about my life from the moment I'd appeared here to the moment we'd met. I told him about acting the part of an amnesiac girl who had escaped an attack on her home village by bandits and being taken in by the family that owned the restaurant I spent two years in.

I told him about my plan, I told him what I new about Tobi, and I explained what it was, exactly, that I was doing. In the "change the future" sense. And he sat and listened. That was the part that amazed me the most. He sat there and listened to every single thing I had to say, didn't move, didn't interrupt, and when I was done, he sat there for a moment and then said:

"So the masked man is to be treated in accordance to the façade he shows."

I nodded.

"I will teach you. But it is very important that you do so, for your sake. I will do everything in my power to protect you, you must know that, but I am no shinobi and short of talking, I am useless. You'll learn quickly. I know you will."

He opened his mouth to speak but was interrupted by a knock on the door. In that moment, I thanked Jashin for Tobi soundproofing my room in order to make it a safe meeting place for us. Imagine if someone had heard me talking about Tobi! I'd be killed before I could even think up an apology or excuse, and Kimimaro with me.

I opened the door with Kimimaro at my heels.

"Yes?"

Kisame, usually so polite, didn't bother with any precursory civility this time and simply got on with it, towering over my not-so-slight form in the doorway.

"Leader wants to see you."

It's funny, I think he's grown rather fond of me in the time I've been here, because he seemed (in a stoic, unreadable ninja way) almost mildly, barely apprehensive about the fact that Pein was calling me. I was surprised, but I figured he simply wanted to meet Kimimaro.

"Thank you for telling me."

He nodded and went his own way as Kimimaro and I made our way down the hall and up the stairs to Pein's office. When we got there, we were greeted by a stern command to sit, which I obeyed but Kimimaro found unnecessary and Pein folded his hands on the desk before us. I in no way expected the bomb he was about to drop on my existence.

"Tomorrow, you will be presented to the people of this village as the Princess of Rain."

"I'm sorry, _what_?"

Fortune, Baby, Favors the _Bold_/End.


	5. Scroll 5

**Chapter 5: My Life for a Kingdom**

"Madara has commanded it. We will reveal soon to the world that the civil war in Rain has ended and you will emerge as its leader."

My head was spinning.

"No way. That is _not_ what I advised-"

"You advised me to place the reign of this village either in the hands of a puppet I could control or in the hands of one that I trust. Of the latter, there is only you."

It's really unladylike and all, but my mouth was opening and closing like a bloody fish's, I was going into so extreme a state of shock. Tobi had appeared out of the shadows, as he seemed to like to do, his countenance (hidden though his face was behind the mask) _dangerous_.

I exhaled rather sharply.

"I do not agree with this. It seems…"

"What? _Foolish_?"

There was a frightening edge to his voice and I shook my head.

"No. Maybe. I was going to say _abrupt_. Didn't you think you might at least _tell_ me I was going to be your puppet princess? The people won't accept me. Use Konan. Or one better, just leave Rain in the hands of Nagato. He's been doing just fine so far, and the people here worship him. If it ain't broke, don't fix it, you know?"

Tobi, er, _Madara_ stared in my direction and I thought I saw a flash of red.

"You will be the Princess of Rain, as I have commanded. The people will accept you because Pein will present you to them and give you his blessing. Divine right. He will continue to run the Village and you will be in charge only of foreign relations."

It made sense. I smiled then, suddenly, and felt Kimimaro's eyes on me as if in question. I inclined my head at the masked man before me.

"You've thought this out well."

He laughed, humorlessly, darkly.

"I always do."

I met his…eye(?) with an amused sort of solemnity.

"Then I accept. But really…that was the best you could come up with, to get me into the chunin exams? I would have been fine, you know, with a seat in the stands. Can I be a lady instead of a princess? Because I've always thought that-"

"The rank of a lady is beneath you."

I hummed in response to that, leaning back in my seat as if to consider it.

"Well, if you're going to be all flattering about it. But then, why _princess_? It's…such a sissy sort of rank. Honestly. Can't I just be an ambassador? It sounds less fussy."

Tobi left without dignifying my request without a response. Figures, I suppose, since Mr. High and Mighty-as-Hell isn't exactly the sort of person to put up with such nonsense.

"…I present to you, Lord Pein!"

The cheer that erupted from the crowd was beyond deafening. It was a roar of approval that I could feel in the air around me, as if it were a solid presence pressing against me from every side, thundering like an earthquake, forcing the floor to shake beneath my feet where I sat, making my chair tremble.

It was so loud I could feel the sound reverberating in my chest, in the very marrow of my bones. And when it died down, Pein addressed his people _in person_ for the first time since the civil war had actually ended.

I don't know whether it was Nagato's passion for his country or the overwhelming, unbelievable adoration the people of Rain had for Pein that left a bigger impact on me, but listening to him speak, I felt myself shiver in anticipation of what he would bring to our country. I was enthralled, so much so that I didn't realize he had announced my existence until Kimimaro offered me his hand and pulled me up out of my seat.

"This is my will."

And thus I was presented to my people, welcomed by a wildly cheering crowd, flanked by Konan and Kimimaro-by God's Angel and my beloved guard-stepping up onto the stage in my elaborate kimono, my hair bound in an elegant up-do, taking Pein's hand.

I know it sounds conceited as hell, but I have to say it at least _once_. I looked _good_. Kimimaro had helped me into my robes (which was somehow _not _awkward?) and he and Konan prettied up my face and did my hair. So when I first looked upon Rain as it's, well, princess, I did so with eyes lined with kohl, with a pale, whitened face and red painted lips.

I must have made an impression because the people cheered and cheered and cheered, and it only got louder and louder and louder as Pein raised my hand above us in a gesture of presentation. It was such an adrenaline rush-it was _amazing_.

And then I was back in my bedroom, laying back on my ridiculously comfortable mattress (being Tobi's advisor pays off), exhausted. It was dark, cozy; warm beneath my covers and blissfully cool as Rain tended to be, nipping at my exposed nose.

"You were received well."

I yawned rather lazily, secretly agreeing whole-heartedly with the intruder.

"I was."

Tobi stepped out of the shadows, a black silhouette against whatever little moonlight filtered through my dark curtains, silent as the night outside. It made me a bit uneasy, when he was in his ninja-stealth mode. When he was death lurking amongst the shadows.

"So, what brings you here at this time of night?"

His silhouette disappeared from my line of sight, or maybe he had simply come so close that he had simply blocked all the light coming from my window from my sight altogether. It was only when I felt him sit on my bed that I realized that Kimimaro was gone.

His silence made me nervous and I sat up, clutching the covers close to my chest.

"Tobi?"

He didn't say anything in response but I felt pressure on the mattress on both sides of my hips, from his hands, I presumed. In fact, when I focused, I could see the orange of his mask floating in front of my face. And I don't know precisely what brought it on, but I reached up and touched his mask.

He stiffened, at least I thought he did, but he was Tobi and there was no way he'd do something so commonplace as that for no reason. He made no move to stop me, though, so I let my finger run slowly down the side of it in curiosity.

"Tobi, why did you-"

I didn't have time to finish my question because I fell back onto the mattress as if guided by some unseen force. He moved over me, turning more in my direction. Somehow, having him lean over me caused me no discomfort. I still shimmied up until I was resting on my elbows, though, just because speaking to someone whose face is above you is a little awkward.

It was incredibly odd that he wasn't saying anything, not because he hadn't lately taken to occasional silence in my presence but because he was so…close? I didn't know what to call it, say about it, whatever you like. I watched him quietly, as if waiting.

And then, as if possessed by the strange mood I was in, I reached up for his mask.

He made no move to stop me, and I wondered if he was curious as to what I'd do. Carefully, _carefully_, I slid it to the side, exposing just a teensy sliver of his face. Of scarred, aged skin. When he stayed still, tense, but still, I pushed it farther.

And his eye was exposed to the night.

Neither of us moved. In fact, it was so quiet, it seemed as if neither of us were breathing. At least, it did to my civilian senses, if not to his shinobi prowess. We didn't stay as we were for what _seemed_ like a long time, we stayed as we were for what _was_ a long time. Because he didn't want to move, I supposed, or was too surprised to, or perhaps he thought the mask would come entirely off if he moved, and because I was caught in something that simply would let me. And then I couldn't hold myself up anymore in such an awkward, half-sitting position and flopped gently back onto my bed and let my hands fall with me.

Pensively, from where I lay, I averted my eyes from what I had exposed.

"Where I come from, when I read the story of this world…part of your mask was broken off in a fight with…well, with Konan."

Immediately, it occurred to me that this was an unwise thing to say.

"Not that Konan is a threat in any way, not anymore, at least. So please, don't…"

I didn't know what it was I didn't want him to do, so I dropped it there.

I bit my lip for a moment, unladylike, I know, but it gave me something to do until I could speak again. Because it was apparent that _he_ wasn't going to say anything, and the silence was tense, and I felt I was going to suffocate if it kept up any longer.

"That's all I've seen of your face. Just so you know."

I nodded to myself as if to reaffirm my statement and glanced out the window.

"So don't worry, because your identity is safe with me. Well, the fact that you're not Madara is safe with me. I don't actually know who you are, so…"

I was babbling and in some distant part of my mind I wondered if the words that I was stringing together in my mind were coming out in coherent sentences or not. I was sleepy. I was unsure. And I felt somehow entirely at ease with my situation.

I wonder if it's possible for a civilian to sense killing intent? Or at least recognize the lack of it, as I felt I could somehow do in that moment?

In that moment, though the woman laying defenseless beneath him would have never known it, he would have let her do what he had never permitted anyone else to do. _He would have let her remove his mask_. When she began to unbearably slowly push it to the side, he had been both anxious and exhilarated, and when she had fallen back onto the bed, he had waited, tense, to see what she would do.

He couldn't care less if Konan had attacked him-as long as Pein was loyal she would never betray him. His attention, then, was entirely on _her_. Waiting.

But she never did it, merely gazed at his eye as if in some quiet thought, and he stayed where he was until she fell asleep, unable to fight the onslaught of tiredness that had relentlessly assaulted her since he'd woken her. It had been a long day for her, he might have mused to himself, had he not been so focused on her herself.

But he realized, as she mumbled a continuation to her previous explanation in her sleep, what it was, or rather, _who_ she theorized he might be, and he found himself angry. Why did it have to be _that_ side of his face? He left her then, slipping his mask over his face and released the genjutsu he had placed on her servant.

Truly, the fates were cruel.

"What? But-I'm not even dressed!"

Konan shrugged in a way that clearly stated that she didn't really care if I was dressed or not and that she thought I shouldn't either, because it was only _those_ idiots. It was to be my formal presentation to the Akatsuki. And that, if nothing else, promised to be interesting.

"Who are you, un?"

There were several ways I had thought to handle meeting the man before me and his partner. As two of my nearest and dearest favorite characters, I could say truthfully that I had spent time pondering it. But the solution I had come up with was tossed out the window in favor of impulsive reaction.

"A critic."

He blinked, not expecting that.

"A critic, un? Of what?"

I had the grace to only look mildly offended.

"Of art, of course. What else is there?"

And bam, in that statement, his eyes practically lit up in joyous acknowledgement.

"Of art, hmmmm?"

I nodded.

"Once again, what else is there?"

Instead of overstaying my welcome, I slipped away before he had the chance to corner me against the wall to chat and walked over to Kisame, calmly and with dignity. When I was standing before him, I inclined my head.

"Kisame-san."

He grinned, all sharp teeth and chiseled features.

"Kid."

I grinned.

"I want a piggy back ride."

It was probably the most bizarre request anyone had ever made of him and it showed in his facial expression. I could understand that, of course. I mean, what kind of nutter would ask _Hoshigaki Kisame _for a piggy back ride? But then, it was, in a way, a test. Because Tobi had, through Pein, made me his superior, and a request from a superior, no matter how nicely worded, or how childishly made, was an order.

"Sure, kid."

I cracked a grin.

"You realize that I'm going to force you to introduce me to everyone like this, right?"

He sniggered. He actually sniggered.

"Can't wait to see everyone else's faces when they find out you're their new superior."

I laughed.

"Let's go, then!"

After several botched attempts at clambering onto Kisame's back, he made a clone and hoisted me up _onto his shoulders_ and ignored my embarrassed squealing and asked me where I wanted to go. When it registered in my mind that his ninja strength was more than enough to keep me up (I was still embarrassed, though!) I sat up with dignity and told him to take me to…

"Kid, this is Itachi. Itachi, this is the kid."

"Kisame, I have already met Ikite-san."

I ignored this and extended my hand with the intention to shake.

"Pleasure to meet you, Uchiha-san."

He stared at me, perplexed, before slowly taking my hand as if wondering what I intended him to do with it and apparently there and then decided to plant a soft kiss on it. I was so shocked, I literally fell off Kisame's back.

"You should be more careful, Ikite-san."

Have I ever mentioned how much I appreciate and adore Kimimaro?

"It's hard when you've done such an excellent job of being there to catch me."

"Shall I drop you, then?" He asked, loosening his grip on me in a way that made me cling to him a little. (The ground was still farther away that I would have liked it to be). I shook my head, plastering what I hoped was a sweet, innocent smile on my features.

"No thank you."

He set me down on my feet then and I tried to ignore Kisame's hardly stifled chuckling and comport myself with dignity but when it proved to be impossible, I gave up, put my hands on my hips and asked, perhaps with a bit of embarrassed irritation, "What?"

He laughed. And when I say 'laughed,' I mean, he _laughed_.

"What do you mean 'what?' You panicked, kid. It was hilarious."

I turned red.

"Well, I didn't expect him to, to-"

I waved my arms about wildly in explanation, pink. When he didn't stop laughing, I gave up and attempted to salvage what scraps of my pride remained and went to find the only member of the Akatsuki I had yet to see hide or hair of.

When he proved impossible to track down, I stood in the center of the room and, quite boldly, even for me, and even with Kimimaro around to save my life, decided to attract his attention in the only way I figured I would be able to. At least, I was until something clicked in my mind and instead, I panicked.

"Leader! I need to talk to Leader!"

Ninjas have super-hearing, right? Well, I was shouting, so if they couldn't hear me, they would be having _serious_ issues on the field. At least, in my humble opinion.

"Pein-sama! It is urgent that I speak with you. Now."

Nagato's avatar appeared before me as if he teleported. Which is, I suppose, possible. Without any sort of warning, he nodded to Konan, grabbed me, and used "The Art of the Body Flicker." Let me tell you, if it had been in any other moment, I would have probably hurled my guts onto the floor. Body Flicker-ing is most assuredly _not_ meant for passengers.

"I presume, by 'Leader,' you meant Tobi?"

I nodded.

"Thank you, Nagato."

He mimicked my movement, only infinitely more sharply and coolly and left. I was nearly overwhelmed by the fierce inquietude burning in the pit of my stomach. In that moment, it was as if something snapped in me and I had my first taste of the savagery that Kimimaro swore to me. I understood, in that instant, the war-lusting of the Kaguya clan, perhaps even, to an extent, I understood the Uchiha. I knew Tobi was there before he felt the need to speak.

"Three nights ago, you told me that anything I desire I will have."

It was true. When we were discussing the progress of the plan in my room he had gazed on me so intently it had frightened me and promised me anything I wanted. And I was, in that moment, something cold and terrible, sharp like steel, unyielding, and _howling_ for blood.

"I want Danzo. I want him _dead_ at my _feet_, and I want you to kill him so quickly, he doesn't have _time _to defile the name Uchiha by using a _single_ _stolen eye_ to save his fucking life. I want his _head_, Tobi, and vengeance with it. I want it _so much_. Don't deny me this. _Please_."

The man behind the mask watched as tears filled _that woman's_ eyes. Her request pleased him. Deny her? No. Of all things, he would not do _that_.

"As you desire it, so it shall be. I am _nothing _if not a man of my word."

My Life for a Kingdom/End.


	6. Scroll 6

**Chapter 6: The Princess of Rain**

The very next day, the Village Hidden in the Rain announced to the world that it's civil war was over and I emerged as its leader. In a week, delegates from other lands were arriving under the pretense of meeting me, but I knew they likely only wanted to gauge Rain's "condition." Kakuzu had outdone himself in the three short months he'd had to work with since Tobi put our plans into action and had revolutionized Ame's economy.

The work he did to sabotage the economies of the other hidden villages was equally successful, and when delegates came to inspect our country, they were met with a force of industry with wealth second only to the Land of Tea and the Village Hidden in the Leaves.

Couple that with the obvious prowess of our shinobi, drilled by Kisame and Konan three times a week in preparation for the visitors and Rain was making out to be a formidable nation indeed. Enough so that the first night the delegates were invited to stay, many letters left the Village with a spare guard from each retinue.

Tobi had done precisely as I advised him to. He revealed Rain as a serious threat.

Before people were allowed in, though, it was decided that I needed a name. And let me tell you, the suggestions reflected the person who suggested it. Big time.

"_How 'bout Kasumi, kid? Kawaguchi Kasumi sounds pretty good, right?"_

_That was Kisame. Just so you know, Kasumi means 'mist' and Kawaguchi literally translates to 'mouth of the river.' See what I mean? _

"_Kanashibari! That'd make a fucking awesome name."_

_That's not even a name! It's the Japanese word for like, ghost possession paralysis. _

"_Hitomi…"_

_Subtle, Itachi. 'Pupil of the eye' doesn't scream Uchiha at all. _

"_Just use Ikite and tack Takahiro to the end of it and stop wasting time."_

'_Valuable' and 'prosperous?' Do you see what I'm talking about?_

"_Katsu…ko, un."_

_For some reason, I felt that the kanji for 'child' was thrown in after 'victory' as an afterthought. Sasori's grudgingly given suggestion was precisely what you'd expect:_

"_Takumi."_

_Not only does it mean 'artisan,' it's a boy's name to boot! And there I put my foot down, terrified that someone else would make another…weird suggestion. At least Kisame picked a plausible name! Well, I guess Itachi did too, but…really?_

"_I'll just stick with Ikite!"_

"_But that's not a name, un! What's wrong with Katsu…ko?"_

_I let my head drop onto the table in frustration, wondering what I had done to Tobi to make him arrange for such suffering. _

"_That's what's wrong with it! You can't even __**pronounce**__ it properly! You'll be all like, 'Hi Katsu…ko, un!' and end up accidentally blowing yourself up!"_

_Sniggers were heard across the room. Even from Sasori._

"_Ikite suits me fine. It's been my name since I got here."_

_Pein nodded an assent and I wondered if Tobi had signaled him from somewhere. Is he allowed to make decisions like that on his own? It was a curious question, to be sure. _

"_Very well. Choose a surname."_

_And it started up again._

"_Kawaguchi."_

"_Fuck no! Kanashibari!"_

"_That's a stupid name, un!"_

"_TOBI KNOWS, TOBI KNOWS! IKITE-CHAN CAN BE UCHIHAGAESHI!"_

_There was silence at that and I nearly burst out laughing. Return of the Uchiha? I guess subtlety is some sort of Uchiha gift. I mean, both Itachi and Tobi (who I strongly feel __**is**__ an Uchiha) both show such command of it. _

"_What the hell, un?"_

"_That's a fucking stupid name, dumb-ass!"_

_I sighed. And then it hit me and I started cracking up. _

"_Izanagi. Izanagi Ikite. That's what I want my name to be."_

_Itachi looked at me curiously from his seat and I felt Tobi poking me childishly in the shoulder, whining that I was mean for not picking his great idea, and no one else at the table got the joke. Izanagi. The sharingan power to change a life. At the cost of the eye, I suppose, but still. The irony was delicious. Particularly when you consider the…request I had so recently made of Tobi. Oh yes._

_It was perfect. _

"_Very well. Izanagi Ikite. That is your name."_

_Once again, I wondered if Pein actually had the authority to make that decision, and made a mental note to ask Tobi if he'd okayed my name first. _

"Ikite-hime…"

I groaned and threw a pillow at Kimimaro, who didn't flinch and merely swatted it away (and inadvertently sent it flying into the corner of the room with ninja strength).

"Don't call me that, 'Maro. Just call me Ikite."

He shook his head disapprovingly at me and tore the covers off the bed, leaving me cold and miserable. The past week had been _awful_.

"Do I have to get up, Kimimaro? I don't _want_ to meet with anyone today. This sucks! I am _sick_ and _tired_ of all those bloody _sycophants _and their '_Izanagi-hime_!' and their '_Izanagi-sama_!' Honestly! It's aggravating! I want things to go back to how they were…"

Despite my childish complaining, I sat up and let him pull me supportively to my feet, mentally attempting to steel myself to face another day of delegates seeking to figure out what direction Rain was going to take from here. After all, an emerging country without an established political position in the world is supposedly easy prey. But an emerging country with a powerful economy and a deadly force to defend it is an entirely different story.

Rain was a threat. And I, as its princess, was the only conceivable representative of its interests. Lord Pein did not meet visitors. He led from the shadows and was (to the knowledge of our visitors) something like a kage to match my daimyo.

Either way, it was a pain. No pun intended.

"Kimimaro, if I meet anyone right now, I'll die. Do you understand? Tell them that I'm meeting with Lord Pein or something."

I threw my hands up in the air as I said it, as if I was trying to explain with gesture just how _done_ I was with the invaders. Kimimaro sighed but nodded.

"What will you actually be doing?"

I thought about it for a moment and then decided to do something I'd been long overdue to attend to.

"I need to speak with Itachi. So fend off those vultures outside and remember to pack your bag for Leaf, okay? Supposedly the team I requested to escort us won't arrive until tomorrow, and we won't leave until a day or two after that, but with all _them_ occupying our time, well, better safe than sorry. That's wise, right?"

"I've already packed, Ikite. For both of us."

I nodded distractedly.

"Great. I'll be back…in a while."

I turned to leave, but as an afterthought added something I could never say enough:

"Thank you, 'Maro. Really. I'd be lost without you."

The rather grave ninja smiled, just a little.

"Go."

And I did, heading straight for Itachi's room and fretting for nearly _twenty minutes_ about whether or not I should knock. Well, of course I needed to knock. More like, if I _could_ knock. Or not.

"Ikite-chan, is something wrong?"

HOLY SHIT, I nearly jumped right out of my skin when I felt Itachi speak almost against my ear as I stared rather dismally at his door.

"No! No. I just wanted to talk to you."

He raised an eyebrow but said nothing, opting to open the door I couldn't muster up the courage to knock on. Like a gentleman, he held it open for me.

"Come in."

I did, and when he shut the door behind me, I stood awkwardly near him as he sat on the bed, patting the space beside him just once in invitation. And then I knelt in front of him and bowed, putting my hands on the ground in what the Japanese call 'dogeza.'

It was a sloppy imitation of the real thing and was honestly copied from comic books I'd read back home, but it was the best I could do to get my message across. I touched my forehead to the floor and didn't dare look up.

"Itachi-san. Forgive me. I haven't been completely honest with you, and I should have told you when we first met, but I didn't think it was appropriate to say in front of other people. I'm sorry. I'm sorry. Please forgive me."

I was seeing his death in my mind's eye, his later reunion with Sasuke, the truth about the massacre, his face when he killed his mother and father, and the words, _I will love you forever_ were like a mantra in my head. I was crying.

"I know the truth. I know what you did. I'm sorry. I'm so, so sorry. And those words are so inadequate, and I hate myself for not coming here earlier and saving you from that, from everything you've been through, and all I can say is I'm sorry. I'm so sorry, Itachi-san.

I know about Shisui and Sasuke and I know that you're…sick, that your Magekyou is stealing your sight. I know that you're a _hero_, and that I'm so, so sorry because nothing I could ever do can ever change what you've been through.

Because I love you, Itachi-san. I love you and Sasuke and so many others, and _that's_ why I think you must hate me. Because the village was everything to you, and you must hate me for helping Tobi. But please believe me when I say I'm making things better. I'll do anything for the people that I love. _Anything_. I don't care what it is.

I'm sorry if you hate me because you feel that I'm undermining your sacrifice. And I'm sorry if you hate me for endangering your brother. I'm so, so sorry. I don't even know if I'm making sense, but I had to let you know…that even if no one else knows what you did, _I_ do, and _I_ think you're a hero, and…and…'No matter what you do, I will love you _forever_.' Okay?"

I was crying shame-facedly into the carpet, and I probably looked a fright, but I couldn't help it. I was _bawling_, because being in this world had changed so many things for me, and it struck me, in that moment, how _real_ it was, how _real_ the lives of the characters I had read about were, and how _real_ my love for them was.

I don't think he had any idea of how to respond to all of that, or maybe he felt that there _was_ no way to respond to it, but he pulled me up from the floor and sat me on his bed as I clutched his arm and clenched my eyes shut, trying to fight back my tears.

"I'm sorry, Itachi. I'm so sorry."

I think it said a lot for who he truly was that he _let_ me cling to him and cry for as long as he did, and I thought, even, that for a little while, he put his arm around me as if in an offer of solace. He offered _me_ comfort, even though it was _him_ that suffered. It was so _unfair_.

"I'm sorry. I shouldn't have burdened you with that. I just…I felt that I had to let you know."

When I had calmed down enough to speak, I did. I didn't, though, withdraw from his one-armed embrace, because he was so _good_ a person, and he smelled so nice, and he was so…_accepting_. Who would willingly leave him?

"Thank you, Ikite-chan."

He was quiet for a moment, and I felt his hand gently touch my hair.

"Thank you."

It meant _so much _to me to hear him say that, even if it was the only time he'd ever say something like that to me, and I'd never forget it as long as I lived.

"No, Itachi-san. Thank _you_. I'm very happy here where I am now. Not because I'm a princess or anything as superficial as that, but because I have the chance to change things and save the lives of people very dear to me. Of all the people that I came to the Akatsuki for, though, it was you that made me do it."

I sighed, biting my lip in thought for a moment, looking down at his dark sheets.

"Itachi, it's okay if you hate me, you know. I don't mind. In fact, I've always expected you to. I've always thought, the second I tell him, he'll wish I'd die. Because…I'm going to _change_ things for you. Whether you want me to or not. I'm going to make a world in which people recognize your sacrifice, a world where you and Sasuke can be _brothers_ again."

He froze, his hand poised above my hair in mid-stroke.

"Ikite."

I shook my head.

"No. You are going to be happy if I have to _die_ for it."

He glared, his eyes flickering to sharingan as if in spite of his will.

"This is my path. And you should not speak so callously of your life."

I met his expression with one that might have been equal in its coldness.

"What is my life here but a means of change? It's _nothing_. I _had_ a life in another time and place, and I _lost_ it. What if I told you the full truth? That Sasuke ends up not a hero as you intended, but a criminal hunted by every village and hated everywhere? That he kills you as you intended, learns the truth and razes his village to the ground in vengeance? You've condemned that boy to a future steeped in blood, a lightless life without meaning."

I stood up, watching my words sink into his brain and kept going.

"_I will not allow it_. _I_ _will not allow you to die in vain_. I love you and your brother so fiercely, you could never imagine it. I love you because I know what you sacrificed. I love you because I saw your face and how tightly you gripped that sword with your shaking fingers when your mother and father told you that they were proud of you, no matter what you did.

I love you because I saw you play with your brother and train him, because I saw you poke his forehead when you died, because you were his beloved brother all along. I love you because when you were brought back by the Impure World Resurrection jutsu, you looked at your brother and you said 'No matter what you do, _I will love you forever_.'

I love Sasuke just as much. I watched him _grow_. I watched him become a ninja and make friends and I watched him be consumed by his desire for revenge. And I won't let him destroy himself like that! And I won't watch you suffer."

Itachi sat on his bed, his head in his hands.

"You do realize that I _am_ ill and I _will_ die?"

I had the audacity, somehow, to smile.

"I have a contingency plan in place. You don't think I'd so vehemently swear you'd have to kill me to stop me if I didn't mean it, do you? I'm not that kind of person. No. I knew what I was going to do before I even left the land of earth."

He didn't move.

"For so long…?"

I shrugged, though I knew he couldn't see it, ignoring how my eyes stung from crying.

"I had to. If I made decisions recklessly, I might have ruined everything. At least this way I can keep everything under my thumb, to a certain extent. I couldn't risk failure. So I planned."

He looked up at me then, his face blank but his eyes intent on mine.

"Perhaps you're not so unsuited to your role as you think."

It was an interesting comment to make, one that was almost suspiciously like…a compliment. And then, despite my earlier bravado, I ended up kneeling in front of him again, like a child waiting to hear a story.

"Itachi…I'm becoming a bad person. I know. But…I don't want you to hate me."

He stroked my hair again, once, and I lay my head on his knee as if instinctively.

"Just…tell me you don't hate me, even if it's a lie. You can hate me all you want tomorrow and every day after, but please, let me be selfish. Just once."

He sighed, and was silent for a moment. Then, very carefully, he brushed back my hair and whispered something very softly in my ear. And then our audience was over and he was walking me to his door. He surprised me, though, by stopping my hand on the door knob.

"Ikite, what made you say you were a bad person?"

His curiosity gave me sudden pause.

"I-why?"

There was an indescribably sad look about his features when he answered.

"Because you had the look of someone that _couldn't_ feel guilty over something they thought, perhaps, they should have. Did…did _he_ make you…?"

I shook my head, cutting him off then and there and drawing myself up to my full height. While he had hit the first part, well, nearly right on the mark, he was wrong.

"It was me. _He_ promised me anything that I might desire. Do you know what I asked for?"

Of course he didn't. But I didn't give him the chance to tell me that.

"I asked for Danzo, Itachi. I asked for Danzo dead at my feet. I asked _him_ to kill that bastard so quickly, he wouldn't have time to use a single sharingan to save his worthless life."

His expression became immediately guarded, distant.

"Ikite…"

"I'm learning something from this world of ninja, Itachi. I've learnt ruthlessness and savagery and I've learnt that to be merciful is to be lower than trash if it's at the cost of what I care about. You Uchiha…You and Sasuke…_him_…and the other, the one I love most. Your pride is my pride. And I will defend it with everything that I have at my disposal."

The Princess of Rain/End.


	7. Scroll 7

**Chapter 7: You Mean, We Actually Get to Escort a Princess?**

"Your eyes are so red…Ikite?"

I waved Kimimaro's concern away.

"It's nothing to worry about, 'Maro. Will you help me, please?"

He murmured an assent and began to help me into my formal robes. Yes, I am required to wear these ridiculously fancy kimono one on top of the other to show my prestige, wealth, and taste. But don't let me fool you-I _love _it. They're so pretty! And the silk is so smooth and light. Mind you, I wouldn't have a clue of how on earth I was supposed to put them on if it wasn't for Kimimaro. But then, he was the heir of his clan. (This was still bafflingly new to me). I suppose it's only natural that he know how to dress?

"…Do you want this folded?" Kimimaro asked, holding up a black shirt so that I could see the front of it. I know, though, that he wasn't holding it that way so that I could see the front, but so that he could scrutinize rather coolly the emblem emblazoned on the back.

"No," I started, shaking my head. "Lay it out for tomorrow. When I walk into Konoha, I will do so with that symbol on my back."

He sighed, looking at the shirt and said, "It's a bold statement."

A secret grin threatened to break out on my face as I thought of what Itachi had said when he gave it to me, and I paused in my applying of kohl to my eyes.

"The last head of the clan gave me permission. I should have that mark stamped into the back of every shirt I own. It would show where my allegiance lies, at least."

A few strokes of a different brush and my lips were a vibrant scarlet. It was apparent that Kimimaro had an answer to what I'd said, but he was silent and a second later, I realized why. Tobi appeared behind me in the mirror, his gaze meeting mine through his reflection.

"Pein says your…guests are within a mile of the village."

"I'll go down to meet them."

He glanced idly around my room, his eyes stopping on the shirt.

"That's an interesting addition to the wardrobe."

A little put out, I turned to face him and asked something I'd been rather dying to figure out: "How is it that you and Kimimaro know before you see it what it is?"

He didn't answer for a moment and then observed, rather dryly, "It smells like him. There's a chance _he_ might recognize the scent. Not to mention the boy, who likely knows it well. It's a bit of a risky move, even for you."

I shrugged.

"There are ways to play that off. In any case, you've made me too important to risk offending for something as trivial as harboring a fugitive."

Making my way around him (which I only was able to do because he let me) I walked over to the bed, took the shirt and hugged it close to me, breathing in the sweet, woodsy spice of its scent. I hummed in pleasure.

"It smells _nice_. I don't care. I'm walking into Konoha wearing _his shirt_ and that's that. And you can't act like you don't appreciate the gesture. The princess of Rain, the hope for a future alliance, walking in with the Uchiha Fan emblazoned on her back. You're the one who suggested _Uchihagaeshi_ as my surname."

He patted my cheek a little forcefully, cheerfully-_too_ cheerfully-said, "You haven't kept a thing from me the entire time you've been here, Ikite. You had better not start now. _I don't know what I'd do if you lied to me_."

The threat was very, _very_ clear.

"I haven't lied, Tobi. I _wouldn't_ lie. There wouldn't be a point to it, any way, since you can see through all that with your sharingan. And I haven't intentionally withheld any information from you. I just didn't think you'd be interested in something as small as this."

"I care when you decide to act reckless to avoid explaining your plan."

I sighed, resting my forehead on the little table that held my cosmetics.

"It's not really a plan, per sé, as much as it's one of those, 'it would be nice if this happened because it would make things easier later but it's not really that important' sort of things. If Sasuke had at least some unconscious recognition of this shirt and its scent, it would cement my connection to his brother later. If Kakashi-sensei recognizes it, well, I have a contingency plan in place, so please don't concern yourself over something so trivial."

He looked at me from behind the mask, and I could sense his disapproval.

"Sensei?"

My cheeks were tinged pink.

"I'm sorry. Habit. That's what he was…Sorry."

He waved his hand in dismissal. I…I didn't even know why I was apologizing, but I felt that it was the safest course of action I could take. Tobi was…in a strange mood. I decided I wanted to leave and timidly said, "Tobi…sir? I-I should go meet the Leaf ninja now."

For a single, terrifying moment, I didn't think he would let me go. I had grown complacent in my trust of him and I was regretting that now. As if sensing my need for reassurance, Kimimaro came to stand right next to me, and I resisted the urge to cling to his sleeve. Tobi…was…_frightening_, his voice like stone when he answered.

"Send the boy away."

Oh Jashin, that was the _last_ thing I wanted to do.

"I-Kimimaro."

He looked at me as if asking me if I was sure, morose as he normally was, and though it was against my better judgment-my instincts were _screaming_ against it-but I nodded. He would have stayed even if it killed him if it would make me feel more at ease and I knew it.

"Please." I entreated, my voice cracking as I said it, but he obeyed. Vulnerable. I was vulnerable as _hell_, swathed in silk and prettied up and sitting in a chair with no defense against Tobi. It was worse than the attack on the restaurant. Much worse.

"You're so tense, Ikite…"

I flinched at his voice in my ear, not bothering to ponder how quickly he had appeared behind me. It was a ninja thing, and I was a civilian. His speed was beyond my understanding.

"I think…I have the right to be, sir."

His fingers tangled themselves in my hair, undoing all of Kimimaro's work. My hairpins fell to the floor with a clatter, and with an abrupt movement, he pulled my head back so quickly I thought for a brief, wild moment that he had intended to snap my neck. It was then that I became conscious of the air on my now exposed throat. Of his mask touching my skin.

"Don't call me that."

I swallowed, painfully aware of how it made my throat bob, and nodded.

"A-alright."

He had a finger trailing along my the neckline of my kimono, as if pensively. And then his mood did a total turnabout: "Relax, Ikite-chan! Tobi is a good boy. Tobi wouldn't hurt you."

His childish, petulantly resentful tone set me on edge.

"Tobi, I haven't lied to you. I haven't intentionally kept things from you, either. I-"

His voice was low, dangerous when he spoke, muffled by his mask, or perhaps my skin.

"I know."

Danger. Every cell in my body was screaming _Danger!_ as I wondered whether my usefulness had run its course. He was going to kill me. This was too extreme for a warning.

"_Relax_."

How the _hell_ was I supposed to do _that_? I couldn't even speak, I was so scared. If scaring me _was_ his only intention, he had succeeded beyond his wildest dreams, because I was _terrified. _He must have felt the same, because in that instant, he gently released my hair, letting his fingers run through it until they were free and twisting it patiently up into some artfully lopsided bun on the side of my head, securing it in place with a jade comb.

It was very different than my previous hairstyle, and I noticed not with little disquiet that it intentionally kept all of my hair away from my neck. I felt his fingers at my throat, and only then realized I had closed my eyes at some point to keep from seeing him in the mirror.

"Tell me, then, Ikite. Is _Itachi_ the one you care for most? Is it him that you came here for?"

"Itachi? I care for him very much-" I started, becoming utterly still when his fingers pressed into my skin a little and he asked, silkily, dangerously, "But…?"

I fought back the urge to swallow.

"But he's not…he's not…"

More pressure. I was finding it hard to breathe now, but whether it was from his fingers digging into my throat or from general fear I couldn't tell you. His mask loomed over my face.

"He's not the one you dream of at night, tangled in the sheets, skin flushed, lips red from biting? Is _that_ what you want to say?"

"N-no. I don't-"

I couldn't talk. I just-I couldn't. He stopped trying to…choke me, I suppose, and instead stroked very softly at my probably reddened skin, toying with my collar.

"Who is he, then, the one you care for so _deeply_?"

I shook my head, edging away from him on the chair.

"I don't know what I did that was wrong, but please, _please_ forgive me. Or kill me quickly, at least. This is-"

"I wouldn't kill you, Ikite. I wouldn't have hurt you, either."

I couldn't believe him as he murmured softly into my ear, his hands wandering.

"No…You have nothing to fear from me."

And honestly, right when I couldn't take any more, he disappeared. Left me there, barely able to _breathe_, pale, and _frightened out of my wits_. Without another thought, I stumbled out of my room on shaky, trembling legs and looked wildly about for Kimimaro, who saw me and immediately steadied me.

Upon seeing him, I flung my arms around his neck, taking comfort from his nearness, his presence. And then I pulled away, stiffening my back and holding my chin high.

"I have to meet the Leaf now, 'Maro. You'll come with me, right?"

He kept a hand on the small of my back to steady me.

"Of course."

I nodded and he led me away. My knees were shaking and my face was pale, very pale, but I realized with a fierce, _fierce_ pride that no matter how frightened I had gotten, I hadn't cried. It was a lesson that had been drilled into me at a young age, and I remembered it even now, in this foreign world that was now my home.

"_As long as you wear this, _(here _that _woman said my name)_…you will not cry. Do you understand? When you put this on and go out into the world…no matter how scared you are, no matter who hurts you…you __**will not cry**__."_

I understood it now, with my kohl-rimmed eyes and my scarlet lips.

"Thank you, 'Maro. I don't know how often I tell you that, but I don't tell you often enough."

His grip on me tightened as he walked me to the main hall of the Administrative building we were all staying in. It was as if he was fighting some instinct and lost, because he stopped, turning gravely to me, his expression intense.

"Ikite…I don't know that you understand the oath I swore to you and what it means."

I looked at him, perplexed.

"What do you mean, 'Maro?"

He didn't say anything and instead looked away from me.

"You don't have to send me away. I would protect you."

Ah. I understood.

"I know you would. But I won't have you throw your life away needlessly. He would have killed you, 'Maro, and you know it. He'd beyond you as an opponent, and you're too dear to me to risk so foolishly, so needlessly."

He started leading me again.

"You were scared."

I nodded, not bothering with any false bravado. His hand tightened around my waist.

"You shouldn't have to be."

I shrugged.

"It's how life is. I'm a civilian. I'm constantly at the mercy of shinobi such as yourselves, and that won't ever change. I knew what I was getting into when I came here."

He didn't say anything after that, as was his way, and I plastered a gentile smile on my face and went to put the next phase of my plan into action.

"Hey, Kakashi-sensei, what do you think the princess is like? Is she going to have a lot of bad guys after her? I'll bet she chose our team because she wanted the best ninja of them all to protect her, me, Konoha's Number One Knuckle-Head Ninja!"

Kakashi sweat-dropped as the little orange clad demon zipped past him.

"Somehow, Naruto, I doubt that."

Sakura looked at Naruto, sniffing in disapproval.

"Naruto, you'd better behave while we're here! The princess is very important and it would be good if she became an ally of Leaf."

That's what Sakura said, but in her mind, she sounded far from calm. _Oh! I bet she'll be beautiful and elegant and amazing!_ Inner Sakura squealed, and then suddenly frowned, punching her palm with her fist in a viciously vindictive movement. _But if she even looks at my Sasuke-kun, I'll beat her 'til she's the same color as her fancy kimonos!_

Kakashi, as if hearing this thought, resisted the urge to bash his head into his book. _Although,_ he thought rather wryly to himself, _this princess is probably some snooty little brat who spends all her time being waited on and letting her advisors run her country and will probably _(he winced) _have a crush on Sasuke. Actually, no. I've heard she's in her late teens or early twenties. With my luck, she'll probably have a crush on __**me**_.

When they were announced at the gates of Rain, Kakashi let out a small, long-suffering sigh and resigned himself to another fiasco of a mission like the one with the bridge-builder.

I had given much thought to the arrival of Team Seven and was well-prepared.

"Naruto-kun!"

The poor boy wasn't expecting me to pull him into an embrace upon meeting me, but, well, he was barely a genin and thus didn't have the reflexes to avoid me. I took vicious advantage of that face with a smile on my face.

"How much you've grown! How like your father you look! But you have Kushina's temperament, I see! Ah-I know you're not a reader but I have a present for you."

I pulled the book I had brought him out of the large bag Kimimaro insisted on holding for me. Yes. It was _that_ book.

"This is _The Tale of a Gutsy Ninja_, the book you were named after. Your godfather wrote it, you know. And-I know how much you love Ichiraku's ramen, so I'll treat you in Konoha, alright? But for now, please accept this miso-flavored ramen until then. Oh, I brought you oshiruko, too. Those are your favorites, right?"

The boy looked flabbergasted and I realized, with a start, that he might have never received a present before in his life. Feeling a sudden rush of affection for the main character of my favorite manga, I pressed a kiss to his forehead, grinning.

"After all, the future Hokage and Konoha's Number One Knuckle-Head Ninja has to eat, right?"

He stared at me as if in awe and, with a secretive smile on my face, I moved on.

"Hello, Sakura-chan. Don't worry about it now, but in the future, you'll look lovely with short hair. Okay? Now forget I said that. Here," I said, offering her a jar of pickled plums. "You like these, right? Oh, and shiratama anmitsu."

She looked bewildered as I handed her a little box.

"Just a snack to tide you guys over until dinner. I imagined you would be hungry after traveling all that way, just because I wanted you to be my escort."

I turned to Kakashi, perplexing Sakura who thought I should have turned to Sasuke, and I bowed, from the waist in the way that Kimimaro taught me.

"I have wanted to meet Sakumo-san's son for a very long time. You, as your father was, are a very honorable man and I respect you very greatly. I have had food prepared for you as well."

I handed him a bento box, ignoring the questioning looks of his students.

"Unless your tastes have changed, grilled saury and miso soup with sliced eggplant will do?"

He nodded, his surprise and suspicion tangible. I handed him the box and a book wrapped in gift paper. He raised an eyebrow. I shrugged.

"A read I thought you might like…by the author of _The Tale of a Gutsy Ninja_."

I winked and he took it with what I just knew was a grin under his mask. I turned to Sasuke, a gentle smile crossing my face as I closed my eyes and exhaled. Three out of four. Three of my Uchiha, safe now. Near me. I opened my eyes in relief and found him looking at me distrustfully. This made my smile widen.

"Sasuke-kun. How you've grown…! You look so like Mikoto-san…But, I think, there's something more of Fugaku-san about the shape of your eyes. I hope that we get along well, and that you will, perhaps, find the time to take a walk with me this evening?"

I handed him his little "snack" box and a little paper bag of tomatoes.

"The rice-balls are filled with okaka, your favorite, right? You've always liked okaka…and never really cared for konbu."

He started at that and gazed very sharply at me, but my expression became a little sad.

"Well, you look like you need rest. Come. We'll show you to your rooms."

It was when we were walking away that Naruto made a very interesting point.

"Hey, sensei! Who's the nice, pretty lady?"

Dryly, Kakashi answered, "_that_ was the princess of Rain, Naruto."

You Mean, We Actually Get to Escort a Princess?/End.


	8. Scroll 8

**Chapter 8: Parting is Such **_**Sweet **_**Sorrow**

"Ikite? You shouldn't be wandering around at this time of night," Itachi said, ushering me into his room as I grinned up at him unabashedly.

"He's here, Itachi, he's _here_. _Sasuke_."

He closed his eyes, his breathing growing shallow.

"Is he?" He asked, his expression betraying nothing.

I nodded, throwing my arms around him in celebration.

"He's here. He's _safe_, Itachi. Now that he's made it here, he's _safe_."

Itachi sighed, ruffling my hair as was his way.

"You can't guarantee that."

I let go of him, still grinning, holding him at arm's length, ecstatic.

"He's as safe as the rest of us, and if something _does_ happen to him, well, as I've said before: _I have a contingency plan in place_."

He shook his head slowly, as if debating whether I'd grown the ego of an Uchiha (Itachi himself not included in that little jibe, of course) and was becoming dangerously reckless. I imitated his prior expression of exasperation and sighed.

"Don't think I'm growing rash, Itachi. Of all things, I won't do that. _Everything_ that I do is part of the plan. And I was recently taught a lesson in the dangers of becoming complacent."

The feel of Tobi snapping my head back, his hand in my hair, touching my throat, toying with me…it played again and again like a broken film reel in my mind. I wouldn't forget it.

"No. I won't make that mistake again."

We were sitting together on his bed again, and he must have sensed some remnant of the fear I had felt then in my tone because he looked sharply at me, shrewdly, and asked, with an edge to his low voice, "What did _he_ do?"

I shook my head.

"Forget it. What's done is done, and he didn't technically do anything anyway. He simply reminded me that complacency is the equivalent of suicide and must be avoided at all costs."

There was a sad, pitying look in his eyes when he regarded me then.

"You are a civilian. You shouldn't have ever had to worry about being _complacent_."

I smiled.

"I chose this for myself, 'Tachi."

His expression grew ever more distant as he watched me.

"I would have taken you far from here, Ikite, if you'd have let me."

He would have, _if _I had let him. But I wouldn't. In any case-"_He_ won't ever let me go. Not as long as I'm of use. When he's done with me, he's done. But until then…well, he just reminded me, didn't he, that until I am no longer of use, I am a tool in his possession."

He said nothing after that.

When it later came time for me to leave, I was, quite frankly, _exhausted_. I had stayed with Itachi into the night talking about this or that, enjoying conversation and a _lovely_ pot of tea. Okay, so _maybe_ we had a late-night snack of dango. Sooooo _gooooooooood_. And then, much too early in the morning, in my opinion, I was meeting Team Seven.

"Yo! Ikite! Who're these little fuckers?"

I gaped as Hidan strolled up beside Kakashi, rudely pointing a thumb back at the three genin, wearing his _Akatsuki_ cloak and ring, straw hat and all. Looking, essentially, like a _sensei-killing S-rank criminal_. Well, that technically hadn't happened yet, but still!

Had he been in the Bingo Book at this point in time?

"Hidan! What are you doing here?"

The shirtless, foul-mouthed ninja grinned, hefting his scythe comfortably(?) over his shoulder as he came to a strutting stop in front of me.

"Leader wanted to beef up your security, so he told me to come with you. Aren't you glad it's me and not any one of those other fucking pansies? It's gonna be great! No Kakuzu being a fucking tight-ass with money, no whiny little Tobi shit-"

"IKITE-CHAN!"

Hidan groaned, letting loose a string of profanity that made Naruto practically start drooling in envy as Tobi bounced up, also in his mask and in his Akatsuki coat, sans ring.

"IKITE-CHAN, HOW COULD YOU TRY TO LEAVE WITHOUT TOBI?"

It was the first time I'd seen him since the night he…reminded me of the value of caution. I was frozen for a moment as he bounded over to me but grinned.

"Sorry, Tobi! I couldn't find you anywhere."

Lies. Dirty lies. I had prayed to Jashin before I left a room in hopes of avoiding him.

"Tobi knew Ikite-chan wouldn't leave Tobi, because Zetsu-san said Tobi is a good boy!"

I shook my head, laughing (as if my life depended on it) and (somehow) managed to pull Tobi into a hug. I felt his arms squeeze me tightly, uncomfortably, but not so tightly as to hurt me. Truth be told, I had been hoping to not have to see him until I returned.

"Of course I wouldn't."

There was much wailing and nuzzling of cheeks before I left after that. He just…clung to me and _wouldn't let go_ and somewhere in my mind, I wondered if he was stalling for something. Finally, Hidan had been pushed to his ultimate limit and he grabbed Tobi, tore him off of me, and threw him away like he was a balled up piece of paper.

"Fucking little twerp. Come on, princess. Let's get the fuck out of here."

I have never been happier to be probably mockingly referred to by my title in my entire life. I could have _kissed_ Hidan for getting me away from Tobi.

We were on our way in less than a minute after that, because Tobi started to cry and Hidan didn't want to deal with "that little shit's whining." Team Kakashi seemed to have been left in a state varying from shock, idol-worship, disdain, and rather sardonic disbelief. These reactions being from, respectively, Sakura, Naruto, Sasuke, and Kakashi.

"Hey. Princess. Who is this guy, anyway?" Naruto asked extremely rudely, jerking a thumb back at Hidan over his shoulder as he walked.

"Please, Naruto, call me Ikite. Princess is so…_fussy_ sounding, I simply can't abide by it."

Naruto nodded as if in understanding.

"Yeah. I can respect that."

I rolled my eyes in secret, knowing he was trying to appear cool. But he was rather insistent that I tell him who Hidan was, something I was rather reluctant to do, considering I didn't know what the story was supposed to be, as I hadn't been informed of this development earlier. Pein wanting to "beef up" my security? That sounds suspiciously like Tobi _deciding _something bad is going to happen to me, probably at his bidding.

Great. Just great.

I was saved from having to explain by Hidan grabbing Naruto by the collar (with one hand), lifting him up into the air (I was surprised he had lasted that long) and answering for me.

"Oi, don't talk about me like that, you little heathen fucker. I'm putting up with you because Ikite requested your fucking team as her escort. Ask any more fucking stupid questions, you limp-dicked little ass-wipe, and I'll tear you a new one. Fucking got that?"

Rather than react as, well, any other twelve-year old child, Naruto's eyes widened in what was obvious admiration.

"You're so _cool!" _

I sighed. Hidan, though, was enjoying the change from being bossed around and belittled by Kakuzu and was bathing in the light of Naruto's idol-worship.

"You bet your fucking ugly-ass jumpsuit, brat. I'm _Akatsuki_."

My mouth fell open and I stopped in my tracks, staring behind me in abject horror.

"H-Hidan!"

I don't know what Pein (acting on Tobi's orders) told him to say, but I was rather sure it wasn't _that_. What the _hell_ was Tobi thinking? Sending Hidan to the _Leaf Village_ as if he isn't a wanted criminal and a violent, Jashin-worshipping psychopath?

The white-haired man waved at me, a rather sly (for him) grin on his face.

"Oh, it's not like everyone doesn't already fucking know about your personal guard, princess."

I blinked. Is _that_ what Tobi was calling it these days?

"Well, I didn't know if Lord Pein would be angry-"

Hidan snorted.

"If he gets pissed, he'll have to shove it right back up his uptight ass, because he's the one who fucking told me to wear the cloak."

I nodded a bit unsurely. _Tobi, what are you up to?_

"You have a personal guard, Izanagi-san?" Kakashi asked, not with little evident interest. I sighed, as if in exasperation, but really in relief because his asking that question meant he was more focused on why I would need such protection as opposed to whether it was a lie or not.

"Yes. It was Lord Pein's idea. Ninja from the previous Rain still make it into the village at times, and as I'm a civilian, well, anything could happen."

Kakashi's visible eye sharpened on mine.

"And the reason we're being paid for an A-rank mission is…""

I raised an eyebrow.

"I hope you're not accusing me of trying to pull the wool over your eyes like the old bridge builder did. Because I'm not. I know you're being rather grossly over-paid for the mission you're doing, especially since I have Kimimaro and now Hidan here, who could take care of any threats that might be foolish enough to wander in my direction. I just thought a nice bonus, so to speak, would ease the pain of being subjected to the journey to Rain and back simply because I wanted to see you. I'm very fond of you, you know."

He mentioned nothing more about it for the rest of the trip. The night before we reached Konoha, we stopped at an inn and enjoyed their rather lovely hot springs.

"Ikite-san? Where are you going? The women's bath is this way." Sakura said rather shyly, clutching her towel to herself. I chuckled.

"You're right. I'm sorry, I'm unused to going to the women's side, mainly because Kimimaro is always with me. Have you never been to the mixed bath? I'm afraid I'd told the others we could all meet there."

I'm not a _very_ sadistic person, I don't think, but I grinned when her face turned a sudden, furious scarlet and I mentally patted my back for a job well done.

"You'll come with me, won't you?"

When in doubt, lay on the extra wide, innocent looking eyes to remind the sappy kunoichi before you that you're only a civilian and could very easily be taken advantage of by horrible ninja men. Or whatever it is your victim sees it as. I'm guessing for Sakura it was something along those lines because she nodded, still blushing, and came with me.

It was fun. Kakashi looked rather surprised at Sakura's strength when she punched Naruto after he got a nosebleed upon seeing her (and me, I suppose, but I don't think that had anything to do with it) and Kimimaro washed my hair. I got to make Sasuke blush (by swimming right up to him while he was relaxing and calmly saying "boo" in his face) and was nearly scarred for life by Hidan, who walked in, threw his towel on the ground, and _jumped in_.

Okay, so the last part was more traumatizing than fun, but the rest was great! And a comfy bed after nights of camping was heaven!

When I walked out the next morning in a clean change of clothes, it was to the absolute silence of Team Seven and Kimimaro (whose silence was of a different kind) and a disrespectful snort from Hidan. Which was, I supposed to be rather expected.

It was Naruto who broke first.

"Hey, Ikite! Why are you wearing Sasuke's shirt?"

Not _quite_, Naruto. Not _quite_.

"It's not Sasuke's shirt, Naruto-kun. It's mine."

Sasuke didn't say anything, so I decided to answer the question everyone must have been thinking at the time instead of waiting.

"It was given to me by the last head of the Uchiha Clan. It's one of the things I hold most dear to me in this world. It signifies my tie to him and the whole of his people, if you like."

Sasuke was clearly burning to ask me so many things, and I felt so bad for him…but things had to be the way they were for everything to work out. He surprised me, though, but standing up very suddenly and saying, "That walk. Tonight, when we get back to the village."

I smiled.

"Of course."

And then, as if in no time at all, we were in front of the gate to the Leaf Village. We had to show our passports (which was a bit of a problem, because, well, _Hidan_) but really, it hardly took any time at all to get into the village. Comparatively.

"So, Naruto, which way's Ichiraku's?" I asked, both hands on my hips as I surveyed the entirety of the Leaf Village (what you could see from just inside the gate, at least). Naruto grinned.

"That way! Believe it!"

"Then that way we shall go!" I said, not caring that I probably should have headed to the Hokage's place to make myself known. I was _starving_ and what better place to show off the Uchiha fan on my back than a ramen stand?

A scream tore me from my train of thought and I glanced wildly about, wondering where on earth it had come from. Hands, (presumably Kimimaro's), grabbed me by the waist and pulled me back, out of the range of a blade that swung, in that moment, towards my throat. Kakashi leapt into action even as Hidan's scythe swung down on my attacker, ending him instantly. I stumbled back into Kimimaro in shock, and someone screamed a warning.

It was too late. Hidan fell even as two Leaf shinobi who had been nearby stepped in to help. A hand of ragged stone had gone straight through his chest and torn out his heart. As I watched I realized exactly what game Tobi was playing at, and that I would be expected to play along. Fighting back nausea and a little bit of fear, I did.

"Hidan!" I shouted, ignoring the shocked faces of those around me. Sakura was looking at me in pity, as if she thought I was going through denial.

"Hidan, quit playing around. You've got heathens to sacrifice, don't you?"

I swear, half of the women in the crowd fainted when he stood up, dusting himself off (and totally ignoring the gaping wound gushing blood from his shirtless, muscular torso) and started cussing.

"Don't those fuckers know how rude it is to do that? Seriously! What the fuck, man?"

Grumbling (or rather, _yelling_) profanity, he stood up grabbed the nearest three attackers on the end of his scythe and threw them on the ground, tearing their stomachs open in the process. That made his mood even more dismal.

"Great. Fucking _great_. Little bastards can't even survive long enough to be sacrificed."

He stowed his weapon and got another one in midair with his fist, licking it inconspicuously and drawing his diagram on the floor.

"Jashin-sama! Accept the sacrifice of this fucker who tried to attack Ikite, a true believer."

He stabbed himself in the left leg, first, then the right. And then, apparently deciding he wasn't in a good place, he slit his own throat and watched as blood poured out of his enemy's. And then he sighed in contentment.

"IKITE-SAN! WATCH OUT!" yelled Sakura, pointing behind me in terror. Kakashi lunged to push me out of the way or something, but it was unnecessary.

Kimimaro had grabbed the offending shinobi and thrown him so hard onto the floor that the man was instantly rendered unconscious and probably broke several of his bones to boot.

"Thank you, 'Maro."

He nodded and handed the shinobi to Kakashi.

"Presumably, your Morino Ibiki can get the necessary information out of him?"

Kakashi nodded, looking unnerved. Whether it was by the attack made on me as soon as I entered the village or the fact that Kimimaro knew who the head interrogator of the Leaf was, I couldn't tell. He answered Kimimaro's request stiffly though, so it might have been the latter.

"Leaf Village ANBU will investigate the attack immediately."

"Hey! Have any of you bitches seen my heart?"

I sighed, my head spinning as the people about me whispered about the white-haired demon shinobi and all that nonsense and decided to ignore the gravity of an attempt being made on my life in favor of giving Hidan a (figurative) hand.

"I've got it, Hidan. Do you need to go to a medic…?"

Word spread like wildfire around the village. No, not like wild fire. Like the Uchiha Clan at the height of its power, all using their fire techniques at once. The Princess of Rain had come wearing the Uchiha crest on her back. The Princess of Rain had made a pact with two devils who protected her and gave her youth and beauty in exchange for her immortal soul. (Which makes no sense. I'm not ugly, but without my fancy make-up on, I'm nothing special, and that's the truth). The Princess was (get _this_) the reincarnation of the First Hokage, come back to rule her village.

What. The. Hell.

"They _ripped _his _heart _out of his body, Takashi. He's no ordinary guard."

"And he got up, just like that! As if it were nothing!"

"The littler one, the one that sticks close to the princess at all times, he slammed that other guy into the ground so quickly you didn't see him do it until he was straightening up."

"He _slit his own throat_! And _laughed_!"

"The one in white didn't use any jutsu. Don't you think that's…odd?"

"Those two are trouble. If that's the kind of shinobi they breed in Rain, we'd better hope we don't ever have to fight a war against them."

_Well played, Tobi, _I murmured to myself, listening. _Well played. _

Parting is Such _Sweet_ Sorrow/End.


	9. Scroll 9

**Chapter 9: Feel the Dawn Peering In**

The ninja who had attacked us so abruptly were from Iwa. The survivor, we were told, refused to cooperate much during the initial period of questioning and had ended up dying shortly after of the wounds Kimimaro gave him when he threw him. Oops. It was unclear who hired them, and there was some suspicion of genjutsu, but nothing was proven.

There simply weren't any leads, or any solid evidence.

I, of course, knew that the attack was Tobi's work. He had probably hypnotized them with his sharingan in order to…well, that I didn't know. The incident wasn't enough to provoke war, and that wasn't supposed to happen for a while yet anyway.

I wondered, vaguely, if he _really_ wanted to leave a "military impression" on Konoha by having Hidan and Kimimaro show off, but I could never be sure.

"Ikite."

I leapt up in my bed, alerting Kimimaro (whom I'd been doubling up with) instantly, causing him to draw a bone from his hand as if in warning. Well, they say that if you speak (or think, I suppose?) of the devil, he _shall_ appear.

"Tobi-what are you doing here?"

The man shrugged, clambering in through the window before childishly throwing his arms around my waist, knocking me back onto the mattress, and whining about how "Tobi missed his Ikite-chan!"

I looked at him unsurely at that, wondering if someone was watching us as he snuggled into me on the bed. My suspicions were laid to rest when he suddenly pinned my wrists to the mattress above my head, ignoring Kimimaro.

"Come on, _Ikite_…is it so unbelievable that I missed you…?"

There wasn't really a polite, careful way to say _no_, so I refrained. It's weird, but I almost felt that he knew what I was thinking at that moment, because he reverted back to his cover personality and whined about how "Ikite-chan doesn't believe Tobi! But why? Zetsu-san said Tobi was a good boy!"

I tried to make like Itachi and weasel away from him, but he wasn't having it.

"Tobi missed his Ikite-chan! Tobi never wants his Ikite-chan to leave him again!"

I was released from the distinctively uncomfortable feeling of his weight crushing me to the mattress by Kimimaro, who dragged Tobi off me like it was nothing. Which was probably because Tobi had basically let him do it, sitting on the bed watching the white-haired boy like a hawk. It was unsettling.

"That servant of yours is getting _awfully_ bold, Ikite…"

I gently, tentatively put a hand on his shoulder.

"He-he means well."

Kimimaro looked impassively at the man in the orange mask.

"I was instructed to behave according to the version of 'Tobi' presented to me."

Tobi's expression darkened under the mask.

"That you were. Now leave."

Oh Jashin. Jashin, _please_, don't let it happen again. _Please_. Kimimaro's words echoed in my head. _I would protect you_. I was so tempted. So, _so_ tempted. But no, I would never put him at risk like that. Never, ever, ever.

"It's fine, 'Maro. I'm fine."

Jashin bless that boy. He did as I asked, and I wondered, seeing that it was more difficult for him now than it was the last time, if eventually he would stay, regardless of what I would ask of him. I shuddered at the thought, because if the day ever came, Tobi would surely kill him. And if that happened, I would _die_.

"What are you doing here?" I asked, tired, wary, vulnerable.

He was silent for a moment and then changed the subject.

"You weren't injured in the attack?"

I shook my head, trying to twist myself beneath him into a more comfortable position.

"No. That was you, wasn't it?"

He drew a sharp breath, making me still, and then slowly nodded. Uncomfortable, I waited for him to deign to speak to me again, rotating my left wrist in displeasure.

"Tobi…? Can you please let go of my wrist? I'm…I'm getting a cramp."

He made no indication of having heard me for a minute, but he released me and then rolled off me, laying in Kimimaro's place as if he belonged there. It irked me, it did, but I didn't dare tell him that and instead lay very still where I was.

"Ikite."

I stirred, only then realizing that in the time we had lay there, I had actually began to drift back to sleep. With _him_ next to me.

"Yes?"

Again, he was damnably quiet for some time and then, with almost a purr in his voice, he said, "Go and tell your servant to order himself a room to stay in."

I didn't have anything to say to that, so I got up, reluctantly, and walked over to the door. He didn't say anything else after that, so I slipped outside and shut the door behind me, resting my head on Kimimaro's shoulder for a moment.

"He wants you to get your own room."

_Crack_. It was a sudden and resounding sound, and when I looked at his hand, I saw that he had broken the heavy oaken railing he had been loosely holding. His mouth was set in a grim, grim line, and I could tell he was_ mad_.

"Do _you_ want me to go?"

I sighed.

"_He_ wants you out, 'Maro, so I havetosay that I do."

His expression didn't change as he stared at the wall opposite us.

"I'll stay here. I don't need a room."

With a sigh, I leaned on him a little more heavily.

"Just get a room. You might as well sleep comfortably."

I straightened up a little sheepishly.

"It isn't as if he'll let anything happen to me."

He stood there for a moment before nodding, rigid, and I said good night to him and slipped back into the room. Tobi was, to my great chagrin and minor anxiety, no where to be seen. I looked around and uneasily made my way to the bed, sitting on the very edge of it.

"I really hope you haven't had me send 'Maro away just so you could abandon me to my fate. Likewise, if you've decided I'm no longer of use and had me send him away so you could kill me, well I'd hope you'd have the decency to-"

"Don't say that."

He had pushed me onto the bed. Again. And he sounded pissed. I sighed.

"What? I was just saying I'd hope you'd have the decency to kill me to my face-"

He rested head on my shoulder in a manner infinitely more intrusive than I'd rested mine on Kimimaro's and repeated what he'd said before.

"Don't say that."

Mildly surprised by his insistence, I nodded in hopes of appeasing him. I suppose I did, because he harassed me in the manner of lying on me for only a few minutes longer and then rolled off me and ordered me to go to bed.

I did.

When I woke in the morning, he was gone, and a note was left in his place. Feeling uneasy, I debated opening it. No, I would be safer waiting. Morning was a more dangerous time of day, in the Leaf Village, at least.

I tucked it into the sash of my inner kimono and threw a thin silk house-coat over my shoulders, wondering where Kimimaro's new room might be. I needn't have bothered, though, because as soon as I opened the door, I was met with a white-robed chest.

"Good morning, Kimimaro."

"Good morning…Ikite."

He gazed at me for a moment and then sighed. In that sigh, I heard a night's worth of, well, worry and intense loathing. And, perhaps, relief. I cleared my throat.

"Will you…will you help me into my robes? I have…an errand to run today."

I most certainly never needed to ask him anything twice. He slipped into my room behind me with ease, not bothering to look around and heading straight to the trunk my kimono were stored in and drawing out one of the loveliest shade of bottle green. It was, actually, my favorite. Regrettably, it would not do.

"Not that one, 'Maro. Today it must be red."

Without issuing a single complaint or questioning my decision, he folded it on the bed and drew out a dark, blazing scarlet robe that I hadn't seen before.

"Where did…?"

It was brocaded with folding fans, folding paper fans and I noticed a very subtle little design of a very familiar symbol in along the pattern.

"It's an uchikake."

He dug around in the trunk and pulled out a cream colored kimono with a striking, yet simple crimson sunset pattern that seemed to fade out of the white starting at the left shoulder and trailing down to the waist, from where it stained the garment red to the floor.

"This homongi is formal enough to wear beneath it."

I nodded unsurely.

"If you say so, but…where did it…"

I trailed off and then, in a sudden fit of inspiration, pulled the letter from Tobi out of my pocket. I glanced around uneasily as Kimimaro drew out a light colored obi with a pattern of peach blossoms and rain on it.

"Kimimaro, there's no one here?"

He shook his head.

"No. No ninja."

I relaxed and opened up the letter. It was much less than I thought it would be.

_Sasori has completed his preparations in Sand and awaits your arrival. _

"'Maro…?" I called quietly to the corner of the room, where he was looking for my hairpins.

_Arrangements have been made for your servant and Hidan in Leaf. _

"Yes?"

Letting my eyes close briefly, I folded the letter back up and held it out to him.

"Burn this."

He took it without another word and did exactly as I asked over a small votive candle. So the next step of my plan was in motion…I had work to do.

As Kimimaro finished dressing me, securing the obi around my waist and tying it with a skill that might have left me wondering, at some other time, I pondered what to do. Hidan, I had essentially given a vacation to. He was, probably at that very moment, enjoying the local baths. (Baths were a luxury often denied to him, not because of the laws of Jashin, but because of the stinginess of Kakuzu. Baths were dear to his heart. And hot springs even dearer! He was, after all, from the _Village _Hidden in Hot Water, located in the _Land_ of Hot Water).

If arrangements had been made…then I could safely presume that Hidan had his orders. What arrangements had been made for Kimimaro, however, I couldn't be sure of. I'd have to ask…but then, that could be risky. My choices, then, were limited. Either trust that Tobi would get Kimimaro away safely, or risk exposure.

And on that matter, I still wasn't one hundred percent sure of how I would get to Suna. I sure as hell wasn't going to walk there myself. Well, I had a plan, of course, and a back up, but that's not exactly fool-proof.

Well, I'd have to worry about that later.

"'Maro, tell Hidan he's off duty until our presentation to the Hokage this evening."

He nodded an assent and went off to do just that. And as I watched him go, I felt a sudden rush of affection for him. I wouldn't take unnecessary risks, but I wouldn't go _anywhere_ without making sure Kimimaro was safe.

I swore it to myself then. I would protect him, in the only way I could.

"Fuck yeah!" I heard Hidan shout, more than a little enthusiastically from down the hall.

"That's fucking _sick_!"

Ah, Hidan. I love you, too. And there's no way in _hell_ I'm going to let you die a miserable death underground. It was moments like these that made me realize that yes, what I was doing was wrong, and it went against, well, it went _literally _against the natural order of things, and _no_, I really don't care.

With that thought in mind, I set myself to the task of conquering Suna.

"Ikite?"

I must have had some determined look on my face because Kimimaro regarded me a little carefully, but I couldn't help throwing my arms around his neck (which is surprisingly difficult to do in all these robes) and pressing my cheek against his.

"Kimimaro, do you think I'm a bad person?"

He didn't hesitate.

"No."

The smile that spread across my face was probably ridiculous, and I simply couldn't bring myself to care.

"I do bad things, Kimimaro. But I think I just became okay with that. Because…'Maro doesn't think I'm a bad person, and 'Tachi doesn't think I'm a bad person, and _I_ think now that it doesn't matter that I do bad things because I'm doing them for love, and for friendship, and for all of the important things in life. I don't care anymore. I don't care if I'm selfish, 'Maro, because I'm doing good. That's okay, right?"

I felt his hand gingerly touch my hair and he murmured something very quietly into my neck as he inclined his head to rest it on my shoulder.

"It's okay, Ikite. It's okay."

Something about the way he said it made me want to _cry_. Hugging him a little tighter for a moment, I released him and instead took his hand, pulling him to the door.

"Let's go for a walk, Kimimaro."

It surprised me, somehow, that he had somehow had a mind to bring a parasol with him, though I'd so suddenly dragged him out the door. Oh, who am I kidding. He totally _let_ me drag him out the door. But he did bring a parasol, not a red one, but a mauve one that had a very pretty wisteria pattern painted on it.

He put it up and held it over our heads nearly as soon as the sunlight hit us.

"Hey, princess! What are you doing here?" Naruto asked, his brow furrowed in a little confusion as Kimimaro and I strolled leisurely towards him, effectively cutting short his and Sasuke's moment of machismo in their little disagreement with my current objective.

"Princess?" Asked a girl with sandy blonde hair, her raised eyebrow conveying both narrow disbelief and a refined sort of sneer. I could practically see her wondering who on earth I thought I was, going about dressed as I was.

I smiled.

"Ikite, Naruto-kun. 'Princess' is rather unflattering and clichéd, don't you think?"

He gave me a characteristic I'm-trying-to-be-cool nod. I shook my head rather fondly at the action and ruffled his hair. Then, rather boldly, I looked up at the upside-down redhead and called out, once more, perhaps, unheeding of my life:

"Gaara, dear, come down before the blood rushes to your head and gives you a headache."

Honestly, it was almost _fun_ to mess with my audience as I was. How did I know that boy? What on _earth_ possessed me to call him _dear_? And what sort of person could possibly think that, when presented with a shinobi clearly radiating killing intent, the real thing to be concerned about was whether they got a headache or not.

Of course, the _real_ purpose of my strange form of greeting was merely to catch our little Sand friend's attention. The key to avoiding being instantly killed by most shinobi was to capture their interest and to hold onto it. When you're a civilian, that is. My method wouldn't really work for a ninja, because a key requirement is that the shinobi who you are trying to speak with _must feel _that they can, if their interest wanes, kill you at any moment.

"_Who are you_?" He demanded, unfeeling, unflinching.

As if in rather dejected embarrassment, I smiled at him.

"Izanagi Ikite. Just Ikite to you, though, Gaara."

Suspicion. The tenderness in my expression, though, was absolutely sincere. That sort of thing can't be faked. And he knew it. Didn't believe it, of course, but he _knew_.

"Ikite…" He tested, his eyes expressionless and somehow still distasteful on my own. I tilted my head to the side as if in some soft sort of delight and sighed.

The smile on the foolish woman's face made some sort of dark, blood-hungering instinct deep within him tremble in black anticipation. No, she was not the sort that he would normally kill. She was a civilian, and thus she was worthless. But still, he wanted to kill her. Wanted to suffocate her in darkness, to see if she would say his name like that _then_.

His sand was already heeding the restless impulse growing inside of him, swirling about his feet like writhing snakes, and his fingers were itchy with that _need_, to grab, to hurt, to kill.

And then, as if she couldn't sense the utter peril that surely awaited her, Izanagi Ikite stepped out from the shadow of the parasol, her arms moving as if she wanted to embrace _him_, the monster, and the sunlight, garish, hit quite suddenly the silk of her fine robes and it was as if the world had been lit up in a vision of blazing _red_.

Feel the Dawn Peering In/End.


	10. Scroll 10

**Chapter 10: The Eyes of the End Are Scarlet in Color**

I had insisted on wearing red for my meeting with Gaara. I had insisted on it because I knew three things, without any shadow of doubt: One, Gaara, upon meeting me, would have no interest in me whatsoever, because I wouldn't even register on his list of people he might kill to "prove his existence" because I am simply a civilian.

Two, once I managed, somehow, to catch his attention, his entire focus would turn to me, and he would ignore those around us in favor of plotting and immediately executing my demise.

Three, he had, due to its association in his mind with blood, death, and himself, an _obsession_ with the color. And I knew that it was the best chance I had for perhaps dissuading him from immediately attempting to take my life because it would, I thought, in the Land of Fire's vicious, hot, and broiling sun, come ablaze and perhaps rather startle him enough in the intensity of its color to stay his hand for a moment.

And that is precisely what it did. Everything I do, after all, I do for a reason. I turned Kimimaro to me because I knew that the most loyal man in the world, if successfully turned from the original object of his respect and affection, becomes something beyond what he was before, and will give everything, _everything_, to the person who has "saved" him from what he was before. I gave him what Orochimaru wouldn't, and for that, I gained a retainer whose devotion to me was beyond anything else imaginable on the planet.

I acted like a woman who has nothing at all to hide in front of Kakashi and Team Seven, not because I had done something so commonplace as _forgetting myself_ in my excitement to meet them, as I'm sure they assumed, but because she who gives up all her cards freely, carelessly, and with a smile on her face will _never_ be the one expected to keep the rest up her sleeves. I had been sincere in my attentions, and it had been absolutely evident in my demeanor. Kakashi, the only one barring, perhaps, Sasuke, who might have harbored any suspicion, would have been entirely unable to find any evidence of a lie in me, and in believing me so open, so honest, he had blinded himself to what I wanted to hide.

And now, I dressed in red, blazing, scarlet red, to take advantage of Gaara's obsession with blood, so that I could buy myself time to, if I were to use a fishing metaphor, reel my hooked little guppy out of the lake.

I took both of his hands in my own.

"Gaara-kun, would kissing your forehead be too much right now? Should I save that for another day? Or is that alright? I _have_ missed you so…"

He was speechless, I presumed. Not really. More like taken somehow aback and instead of needing to recover, he had proceeded right to analyzing everything I did. I couldn't blame the poor boy. If everyone around _me_ was too terrified to go within a fifteen-foot radius of my person, and suddenly some loon of a woman came up to me and grabbed my hands and threatened to _kiss_ me, I would be a little out of sorts too.

With an understanding and perhaps pitying smile, I stepped back.

"Too soon…I'm sorry."

I reached up tentatively to stroke into some sort of order a stray strand of fire-red hair and then released him, stepping back not nervously, but in a way I knew he would understand was meant to give him some space.

"Well, I have a meeting with the Hokage this evening…and I must collect my other guard. Perhaps, Gaara, dear, if you have the time, we might meet again…Do you enjoy gazing at the moon? It's best from the rooftops, I would think."

I bit back a little (hysterical) giggle and instead bowed (only a little) respectfully.

Normally, I would think it counterproductive to encourage someone to stalk me, but it was necessary. And judging from the expression on his face (which was barely there, anyway) he would be trailing us to the hotel, and would likely spend the night on a nearby roof.

I had fascinated him. And it was only a small step from there to my true goal.

"Good day to you, Gaara. Kankuro, Temari. Naruto, Sasuke."

I inclined my head in the manner of a real princess and walked off with a disquieted Kimimaro. Ah, I would need to explain myself to him later.

"That boy is following us, Ikite."

It was so discreet a murmur, I nearly missed it.

"I know, 'Maro. Don't mind him."

He didn't say anything, as I knew he would, and we walked on.

"Princess Izanagi, the Third Hokage of the Village Hidden in the Leaves. Lord Hokage, Izanagi Ikite, Princess of the Land of Rain."

Inclining my head graciously, I swept my right foot back in a subtle curtsy and then, rather suddenly, smiled at the older man before me.

"Lord Hokage. It is an honor to meet you at last."

The kindness and carefully concealed curiosity in his face made me suddenly want to be sick. The man before me was living out the end of his days. I _could_ have saved him. Instead, I was aiding and abetting the man who would be his murderer.

There was a feeling to put into words.

"Princess Izanagi…I have heard many things about you, you know."

Like what? I'm not only going to let you die, I'm going to undo what little good came of your death and then disgrace your memory by using you to control the Leaf Village.

"Good things, I would hope?"

He laughed, and I let a small smile steal across my face. His good humor was contagious. And if I didn't relax and…enjoy the brief calm, so to speak, I would be giving myself away. And I couldn't do that. Couldn't.

Everything had to go _exactly_ according to plan.

Kimimaro, Hidan and I were led to what I presumed was the Hokage's office. There, awaiting us, was the lovely fragrance of some sort of tea I didn't recognize, and two shinobi I presumed were to be the Hokage's guard once the ANBU escorting us left. (Which, honestly, really meant "hid"). I knew them. Both of them. And I knew the little secret they kept…

"Are these your guards, Hokage-sama?"

He nodded, and I bowed to them gently, then slipping my fingers daintily into Kimimaro's hand and permitting him to lead me to the seat that awaited me. Hidan trudged in behind us, leaning against the wall in an ill-mannerly fashion that suited him to a 't.'

"Lord Hokage, would it be possible to have chairs brought in for our guards? I…I don't feel right sitting if they can't."

He looked surprised, and I was jolted by Kimimaro suddenly grabbing my wrist.

"'M-Kimimaro?"

He let go.

"I apologize. I don't know what came over me."

Red eyes. He had seen red eyes snap not threateningly, but in some pleased sort of surprise to Ikite's patient, if a little embarrassed and thus awkward form, and he felt, suddenly, as if she had been touched by some strange thing, and he felt an unidentifiable chill move through his arm, forcing him to grab her. The male that stood on the other side of the Hokage was looking too at Ikite in easy-going surprise, and slowly, almost reluctantly, Kimimaro gathered himself and moved his hand from the woman he had bound himself to.

"My apologies, my lady."

He had grabbed my hand. Randomly, entirely out of the blue. It was unlike him, and that made me incredibly uneasy. But that thought was erased when four chairs were brought in, and I turned a cheery expression on the Hokage.

"Thank you, Hokage-sama."

Our guards were seated. Well, three of them were. Hidan flopped gracelessly into his seat and yawned, clearly bored and rather finished with the novelty (that he hadn't cared for in the first place) of meeting the Hokage. I rather hoped that he would…well, for lack of a more polite sort of phrasing, _keep his mouth shut_.

We were served tea, and, as if anticipating my desire that our guards join us in the partaking of sweets and pastries, I noticed that the Hokage had extra cups brought. This pleased me, not only because I didn't want Kimimaro and Hidan to have to stand there like mannequins, but because it was a sign that I was successfully presenting the image of myself as a rather shy young girl who was not born of royal stock.

Which was what I was going for. Sympathy. Pity. Trust.

"How have you liked the Leaf Village so far, Izanagi-san?"

I smiled, turning innocent eyes to him, and launched my enthusiastic tale. I spoke and spoke until the tea was cold and another pot of it was brought in, I told him everything (or what he would presume to be everything), from the awe-inspiring sight of the gates towering before me, opening to a sprawling city the likes of which I pretended I had never seen to the delightful simplicity of the greatest ramen in the world.

And then I "remembered" myself and stopped mid-sentence.

"I apologize, Lord Hokage. I-I seem to have gotten a bit carried away."

I shot an embarrassed grin in his direction and took a surreptitious sip of my now cool tea, hiding behind the little cup and the swath of fabric that made up my hanging sleeve.

He smiled in a very fond, grandfatherly manner.

"Praise for this village is always welcome to me, Lady Izanagi. An apology for such gracious enthusiasm is not necessary here."

Feeling a little bit of red steal across my cheeks (because, honestly, I prattled like a child), I looked away.

"Thank you, sir."

He laughed. And somehow, with very little else occurring, our meeting was over. I knew that we wouldn't actually manage to get anything done, the first meeting would of course be intended as an ice-breaker sort of thing, but it ended so quickly, it surprised me.

I had survived. I had kept hidden what I needed to, from the most powerful man (arguably, I suppose), in the Country of Fire.

It was only when we arrived back at the hotel, once Kimimaro and I were safe in our room and Hidan, grumbling about how utterly _boring_ that meeting was, had left us, that I found myself once again able to breathe.

Kimimaro folded my splendid robes as I changed behind a paper screen into a soft pair of shorts and a loose shirt. Only then, stepping out of the screen and flopping onto the bed in a graceless Hidan-like manner, did I decide to ask 'Maro about what had happened earlier.

"Kimimaro?"

He paused mid-action and turned his vacant expression towards me.

"Yes, Ikite?"

There was no reason for me to be anything but blunt with him, so I sat up, looked him in the eye, and asked, without any sort of prelude or explanation, "What happened?"

He knew exactly what I was talking about without asking.

"I didn't like the way that woman looked at you."

Of all the things I could have possibly expected, _that_ was not it. _That_ was completely and utterly bizarre, and seemed as if it were an answer coming from some other, foreign place, and not from Kimimaro's mouth. Kimimaro is not a hothead. And that sort of comment suggested either a man who had achieved an ungodly height of impulsiveness or a man wildly besotted. Kimimaro, I will reiterate, was neither.

So the fact that he would answer in such a seemingly careless way made me feel…unnerved. I mean, what sort of look could possibly…

"I didn't notice Kurenai looking at me in any particularly strange way, 'Maro…?"

He glanced almost idly out the window before turning back to what he was doing, quietly observing aloud, "That boy's watching you." I smiled.

"I know."

He didn't say anything in response to that, but apparently decided to return to the topic we were previously discussing and, having finished putting away my clothes, came to stand at my side of the bed, his stony eyes trained directly on mine. I blinked.

"'Maro…?"

"Don't involve yourself with that woman. Even if she is a part of your plans, Ikite. Promise me you won't involve yourself."

_What?_

"I…promise? Kurenai Yuuhi is of no consequence to my plans, but…'Maro, what a strange…"

He wordlessly pulled the soft blanket supplied by the inn over me as I watched him, almost intrigued. He had never, _ever_ spoken to me of my plans before. He had listened, yes, as I explained what I thought he needed to know, and he had asked a few questions for clarification (dealing with Tobi/whoever he was, for example) but he had never interfered.

"…thing to say. 'Maro, what did you mean by that?"

He shrugged in a rather too-casual gesture for him, slipping into bed beside me, turning off the light beside him and closing his eyes as the room grew suddenly dark.

"That woman is a danger to you, Ikite. That is all."

And those last three words were meant in the most literal of ways, because he then proceeded to turn away from me in a movement that did not only _convey_ dismissal, but was the physical _end_ of the conversation. I glanced briefly at the window, wondering where it was that Gaara was hiding, before letting my eyes slide shut and drifting off to blissful oblivion.

"Is he here again…Kimimaro…?"

A week had passed since I set my proverbial "bait."

"Yes." Kimimaro intoned rather quietly, conveying quite easily to me that he did not understand how this was possibly a part of the plan. We were once again alone in our room at night. I didn't have a clue where Hidan was, but then, I'd pretty much told him to do as he pleased. Within reason. Hmmm, I needed to organize a trip…Hidan wouldn't be able to go on much longer reigning in his murderous impulses like he had been doing…and I had a feeling Leaf would be boring in the month it took for the chunin candidates to train.

Honestly, it would have been more convenient to go to Sasori while I waited for the big day, but that would ruin the time line and cause all sorts of unsavory troubles.

"Shall I remove him…Ikite?"

I shook my head, playfully batting at Kimimaro's soft, white hair.

"Absolutely not. I forbid it, completely and utterly."

He didn't look too happy about it, but he nodded careful assent. I sighed, now dwelling on what would happen in a months time. (Honestly, there had been very little point to arriving here so early…barring the necessity of getting to Gaara early. The only portion of the exams I was permitted to actually attend was the finals). And that got me thinking of what Tobi had said. Written, really, but I digress.

"'Maro, we're going to be split up for a little while in the future."

This was, apparently, not something he was ready to hear.

"No." He intoned, quietly, assertively. I shook my head.

"It's necessary, 'Maro. I'll soon be going to the Sand Village. Or, more specifically, and more in accordance with my wishes, I will soon be abducted to the Sand Village."

"You…You _wish_ to be abducted?"

I nodded rather cheerfully and glanced carelessly towards the window.

"Don't worry. The kidnapper is someone you know."

He followed my gaze and stiffened, turning an incredulous (well, as close to such an expression as I figured he'd likely ever achieve), utterly baffled (once again, in his own way) look in my direction.

"_Him_?" He demanded, looking almost affronted.

I nodded.

"Yes. That's what I'm hoping for, at least."

Kimimaro did _not_ approve.

"Ikite…You plan to have that boy _abduct _you? You would trust your life to him like that?"

Without preamble, I kept my gaze even on his own and affirmed that statement. You'd think I'd informed him of my engagement to Jiraiya or something. His rejection of such a thing bordered on violent. It was actually kind of heart-warming.

"The killing intent that radiates from that boy, Ikite. If you were a shinobi, you would understand. You cannot go with him."

"I must," I answered in form of rebuttal, my gaze disapproving and tender all at once on his. "I need him to trust me. I need him to be unable to leave me. That boy is the future Kazekage of the Sand Village. He will be my dear ally, in time. I will do what is necessary."

He turned back to laying facing away from me.

"As you wish, Ikite."

I bit my lip. That was a dismissal, a weary one, a frustrated one, and I felt bad for forcing him to it, but he had to understand. Taking Naruto's place as Gaara's "savior" was absolutely vital to my plan. There was no way to argue that. And the plan was what I loved for.

Feeling a bit weary myself, I closed my eyes, shifting so that my head sunk more comfortably into my pillow. I had a month. A month to ascertain precisely what was planned for Hidan and Kimimaro, a month to ensure that Gaara wouldn't be able to leave me behind. A month to perfect this early stage of my plan.

What had I achieved so far…? I had successfully become Tobi's advisor. And in terms of my more permanent goals…I had gotten the first of the two scrolls I desired by negotiating with Orochimaru. I had turned Kimimaro to me, I had retrieved the ring, and more importantly, I had assured myself temporary control of the Leaf Village according to the terms I had quoted to Orochimaru. I was playing the long game, now, for the Sand Village.

I had thrown any doubts that might have been had about my person away through my interaction with the Hokage. I had managed to attract the attention of Gaara, and I had intrigued him. I needed to speak to him, now, and I would only get one chance. If I succeeded, the Sand would be mind. If I failed…well, I would put the option out of my mind, because my life and my goals depended directly on my success.

I needed to speak to him…When? When would be the best time…it would have to be spontaneous, of course, but I could still exercise some modicum of control over the situation by ensuring that I was available at certain times. So…when? Where? The location, too, I would have limited control over. I had a month…With my thoughts thus ensnared in the insatiable hold of ambition, I felt myself drifting off, slowly, but surely.

So preoccupied was I with my scheming, the earlier incident and the potential importance of Kimimaro's strange behavior was lost to me, and I drifted to blissful sleep.

The Eyes of the End are Scarlet in Color/End.


	11. Scroll 11

**Chapter 11: In a Flurry of Leaves**

The month, contrary to what I had expected, passed very quickly, so quickly, in fact, that the trip I had been considering taking never happened. It's strange how that happens, actually, considering we didn't do much during that seemingly enormous stretch of time, but that was how it was. Hidan went to the baths. Kimimaro and I wandered, or, more often than not, stayed in our hotel room and kept to ourselves.

It was a nice break, I suppose. Kimimaro, particularly, seemed to be pleased to be away from Rain. But I would assume that was due to Tobi's absence.

Actually, things between us were strained. Kimimaro seemed to me…almost frustrated. I knew he didn't like my plan to get kidnapped, but it was vital. _Vital_. And it's funny, because getting to the Sand Village isn't actually that important for the greater scheme of things. Half of the reason I'm going is for him. For 'Maro.

I won't give it up. For anything. Because that is my way of repaying him. For everything. I manipulated him, yes, but I like to think that what I took from him then I give back in unbridled appreciation, in affection and faith. He bound himself to me, which was more than I expected or deserved, and that I had yet to repay. So, to Sand I shall go. Whether he likes it or not.

On the subject of this rather needless (in Tobi's eyes) venture of mine, though, I had made progress. _I spoke with Gaara_.

I left Kimimaro behind. I think, perhaps, that it hurt him, but…it was necessary. In that moment, though, seeing the way it was as if a steel shutter had slammed closed over his normally expressive gaze, I _hated_ that phrase. I _hated_ it.

It was night outside, and I found walking through the village in casual clothes refreshing and peaceful. He was following me, I knew, whether I could see him or not (the latter being the case) so I led him to the KIA memorial stone. Kakashi and Sasuke were gone, anyway, so we wouldn't be disturbed. Without dwelling on the fact that I couldn't read a word on the tablet, (it had rapidly become apparent after my arrival in this world that the ability to _read_ the language I could somehow, magically speak was not included in the clichéd girl-from-another-world package), I left a little offering of jasmine flowers at the foot of the stone.

And then grimaced and wished I'd perhaps brought something else. Jasmine…while it was once numbered among my favorite scents, it somehow reminded me of Tobi. Of that night, when he threatened me in my room, his hands tangled up in my hair behind me in the mirror. Kimimaro had brought me some lovely bath salts from the market. The smell had permeated the air like a fine, heady mist, and the matching jasmine scented oil that was used as perfume here didn't help. I had daubed my wrists with it, and just touched beneath my ears. I hadn't used either since, so rattled was I by what had happened.

Yes, the scent of jasmine would always make me think of that night.

Breaking my train of thought, I scoffed. It wasn't as if Obito and Rin, whom I was paying my respects to more than any one else, would mind. Rin seemed the type to like flowers. And hey, for all I know, Obito might have really liked jasmine too!

It was unlikely, I supposed, but it was a small comfort to me, so I shook it from my mind and instead sat myself down in front of the tablet and the flowers and sighed, attempting to blow a few stray strands of hair out of my face.

The moon in this world is incredible. It gives off so much light…It's _amazing_.

I sighed.

"…Gaara?"

He didn't answer, though I knew he had to be. This was too much _his thing_ for him to not be here. Very well, I thought to myself, if he wanted to dance, I would oblige him.

I stood, looked once more rather wistfully at the moon, broke out into a wide smile, and closed my eyes, spinning around once in a circle, my arms held aloft as if in welcome.

"Look! I'm alone!"

I didn't add that there was no one to protect me from him, but I figured that I didn't really need to. He had probably been aware of that since I'd left.

"Gaara, dearest, I only want to talk to you. That's fair, don't you think? I would think you might have wanted to talk to me too, seeing as you _have_ been following me for three weeks."

Nothing. Feeling frustrated and reckless as hell, I let my arms slowly drift back to my sides as I slowed my spinning to a stop, my eyes still shut.

"Won't you come out…? Please?"

Nothing.

"Fine. When you feel like talking to me, come out. I'll wait."

And so I would. I just wouldn't wait _still_. Breathing in the somewhat heady night air, I opened my eyes and took off like a startled deer. Perhaps that is an unflattering and rather deceiving description? I wasn't scared (though I probably would have been better off had I remembered to keep a healthy dose of fearing for my life on hand and not been so careless) and I wasn't (by any means) a fast runner. Nor was I particularly agile in any sort of way.

But I ran nimbly off towards the woods near the memorial in such a manner anyway.

There is absolutely no possibility of a civilian, _especially_ one as slow and regrettably rather unfit as myself, can outrun a ninja. I didn't expect to succeed there, anyway. I do, however, like to think that I rather took him by surprise, because for a moment, there was nothing, and I crossed into the safe harbor of the trees without any form of impediment.

It was only as I laughed in sheer, heady exultation that sand grabbed my legs and practically buried me up to my waist, rendering me entirely immobile.

"You said you'd wait."

Ah…there it was, a low almost growl, it's ruthless tone of accusation hiding what might have been childish confusion and perhaps, the smallest smidgeon of hurt. I smiled, even though the metallic smell of blood was practically _gagging_ me.

"And I'm still waiting."

He was silent, and in some dark sort of curiosity, was driven to step into my line of sight. His expression was, well, missing as it normally was, and his eyes were very cold on my own. Sand swirled at his feet and I wondered, suddenly, if I had perhaps pushed it to far.

"I want…_to kill you_."

I resolutely forbade myself from freezing up, forced myself to stay calm.

"…Really?" I asked, keeping my tone light. Or something, hopefully, close to it.

His face morphed into one of those creepy as hell evil blood-thirsty leers of his, and I felt his sand squeeze me tighter as the rest of it went from swirling about his feet to literally whipping back and forth, like hissing, spitting snakes, with perhaps the same noise.

"_Yes_."

Fuck. Fuck, fuck, fuck. Think, Ikite. _Think_.

"But isn't that counterproductive?"

He stopped, tilting his head to the side, his psychotic grin flickering. I took the opportunity to immediately continue.

"I mean, you kill to prove your existence. But I acknowledge you. I _love_ you. Yes, I'm a little terrified right now, but it's only natural for a civilian to fear a ninja. That doesn't mean I fear _Gaara_. Just the ninja part of you that could snap my neck without a second thought. Yes, I only met you three weeks ago, but I _know_ you, dear, and I love you for who you are. _Not_ what you can do. I don't think you're a monster. I think you're a person with Shukaku inside of you."

Directing the next part of my speech to the tanuki, I frowned.

"Coincidentally, I know you can hear me, Shukaku, and I would appreciate it if you would stop goading him to kill me. Honestly. I mean, I pose no threat whatsoever to either of you and…Well, maybe Kurama was right. After all, they do say that one's willpower is the greatest measure of one's strength…?"

Gaara twitched, and I wondered, briefly, if I had pissed the One-Tails off too much. Unhurriedly, though, I continued, turning my attention back to my real objective.

"Are you alright, Gaara? Sorry, I didn't mean to ignore you there, or to piss poor Shukaku off. Would you like to sit down? I know the forest floor doesn't make for the most comfortable of chairs, but it's better than nothing. I would sit, too, but you've been kind enough to provide me with my own…seating."

Gaara looked aggravated now, like something vicious and wild, baring his teeth.

"Why?" He demanded, storming right up to where I was trapped and grabbing me quite painfully by the shoulders. I couldn't move.

"Why what, Gaara? You have to explain, so that I can explain…okay?"

"Why are you here? Why _now_?"

He was clutching at his head, falling onto his knees, his tortured gaze like some dark, razing flame on my own. And right then, I remembered that he was only a child, twelve years old, I think, and I _pitied_ him.

"Gaara…"

I couldn't reach him. That doesn't mean I didn't _try_, but I was both literally and metaphorically _stuck_.

"I don't know. Why _me_? Why am _I_ here? I…I couldn't tell you. I know you've suffered, though. I know you've been so _alone_-"

A sudden jerk passed through his body and I guessed I was either on the right track, or dooming myself to sudden, sandy asphyxiation.

"And that's not fair. It's not fair at _all_. But…you know, you don't _have_ to be alone. Not anymore. I mean, I'm here, right? I'll be your friend. If you'll let me."

He shifted, looking at me with distrustful eyes. But the sand loosened, not a lot, but enough for me to carefully slip one leg out of it, then the other. Spurred on by some madness, I knelt beside him, gently pulling his hands away from his face, where they were digging into his sand armor, and, with a dangerous gravitas that was usually unlike me, the corners of my mouth twitched up in a smile and I pressed my forehead to his.

"I _know_ you, Gaara of the Desert. I've watched you grow, I've seen how desperate you are for company, companionship. I've seen you do your absolute best to not frighten others away, and I've watched people, children, even, blinded by fear, take even the chance to do that away from you. Oh, I know all about you, Gaara dear. I know who you are, what you've done…what you could be. You are not a monster. The true monsters are the people who treat you like one."

Dear god. I don't know why, but the way I spoke to him, then, was very little of benevolent sister-figure and a little more of dark…_something_.

"You tried so hard…and for what? For them to spurn you. And if you enjoy killing? It's unfair to condemn you for that. You are a shinobi. Shinobi kill. It's hypocritical to judge you over something that isn't even entirely in your control, especially when there are others who flaunt their own talent at it with _pride_. Shukaku is bloodthirsty by nature, and this influences you. But that doesn't make you a monster. _I_ don't think you're a monster."

I debated with myself for a moment before letting my voice drop to a whisper.

"I don't think Shukaku is a monster either."

And, of course, my ideal outcome was foiled by reality and the overused "this can't be real, it's too good to be true" trope when Gaara suddenly knocked me back into the ground, his hands around my throat as if he had forgotten he had his sand to do the strangling for him.

"_You're lying_."

"I don't…have a reason to."

I was beginning to get lightheaded, even though he wasn't _really_ choking me, as much as not-so-subtly threatening me, but still.

"You don't trust me because you've been betrayed. Or…you _think_ you were. By your uncle. But what cause have I to lie? I don't have a _reason_ to hate you, to dislike you, even, so how could I? I'm certainly not an assassin sent after you by your father. Look at me. I'm entirely at your mercy. And I love you anyway."

He faltered, then, and let go of me. Regrettably, I couldn't do anything cool, like reverse our positions (not that I would attempt to choke him even if I could), or kick him off or something, so I lay placidly on the uncomfortably floor, staring at the sky, as he drew back as if I'd bitten him. Which I assure you, I hadn't.

When he didn't speak, I assumed that he was, perhaps, emotionally vulnerable enough for me to successfully deliver my coup de grace.

Though it was (in retrospect) probably too much for his twelve-year-old, affection and acceptance-starved mind, I told him the truth about his uncle. I told him that it was a test of his control, and that his uncle loved him dearly, that his uncle hated his _father_, not him, and lastly, I told him that his mother loved him. _Loved_ him, with all her heart, and that it was _her_ will that gave him control of his sand, because she wanted to protect him.

He cried, bitterly and I held him. It actually surprised me, somehow, how…_small_ he felt in my arms. I mean, he technically wasn't _that much_ smaller than me, but…At the end of the day, he's a twelve year old boy. I think most people forget that.

"_Fuck_. 'Maro, this is-_I don't even have words for this_." I groaned, cradling my suddenly pounding head in my hands.

Kimimaro didn't look at me.

"Most people are pleased when the psychotic ninja stalking them gives up the chase."

I made a highly displeased face.

"_Most people_ aren't hoping said ninja will abduct them. And most _psychotic ninja_ don't start _avoiding_ their target because they don't want anything to happen to them! He's avoiding me, 'Maro. He doesn't want to get me involved in the war the Kazekage wants to start with the Leaf. He thinks he's _protecting_ me. What the hell am I supposed to do with that?"

It was a nightmare. I had Gaara under my finger, stringing him along with kind words and comfort, with the truth he'd so desperately craved when confronted with the taste I'd dangled before him…I had _broken_ him, _shattered_ him like dainty porcelain, and I had built him back up with the love and affection he should never have been starved of as a child. I'd held him, I'd stroked his hair, I'd whispered what I knew in his ear and he'd accepted it, all of it, with metaphorically open arms and a clingy, desperate sort of need.

I had worked so _hard_ to make him dependant on me, I would wean him off it later, of course, but I had meant to indulge him, twelve-year-old that he was, and everything was ruined. His…regard for me had apparently become so great, he'd forced himself to grow up, to be selfless, and to leave me behind, (well, metaphorically. It wasn't time for him to physically leave me yet, dammit, and ideally, he wouldn't have to).

"Ikite…why do you need to go to Sand?"

Kimimaro never questioned me. If he did, of course, I'd answer. I trusted him completely. And he knew that, I think. But…for him to ask, it showed me how much it _bothered _him. That I was leaving him, no matter for how short a time. I smiled, probably looking more pained than anything.

"I've neglected you lately, haven't I, 'Maro?"

He didn't say anything, but it was true. Rubbing my temple idly with my hand, I sighed. I'd all but abandoned him already, and I hadn't even left yet. But I _needed_ Gaara on my side. Not that that particular strategy worked out well for me…

"I've neglected you. I'm sorry. But I'm doing it _for_ you. You've been getting worse, 'Maro. So quickly. You hide it, but I know it's there. I can hear it when you breathe at night. I know you leave the room to cough. Because you don't want to wake me."

He stood with his back ram-rod straight, pausing in mid-step as he walked over to the little vanity that had some of my things scattered across it.

"Ikite, it's-"

"It's what? _Not important?_ What that what you were going to say?"

He didn't answer, and I knew I was right. And it sickened me. Without thinking, I got up and walked right over to him, throwing my arms around his neck and pressing my face into his back. Idiot. The idiot thought…he thought that I…

"You're important to me, 'Maro. You're so, _so_ important to me. I-If you could, 'Maro, would you stay with me?" I asked, my voice muffled by his deliciously soft white robe. Perhaps he could hear the childish desperation I couldn't hide.

"Always…" He murmured, not turning, "in this life and even unto the coldness of the void."

Clutching at his sleeve almost tenderly, I clung to him.

"I can't let you die, 'Maro. I can't do it. I can't let you go. You promised me. You _swore_. And as long as I live, I will drag you back to my side. Will you hate me for that, 'Maro? For dragging you back from blissful, eternal oblivion to stand beside me?"

He turned then, and without preamble lifted me and took me to bed.

"Do you know the meaning of the oath I gave you, Ikite? No…you wouldn't. Very few would."

He was pensive, perhaps, grave, as he drew the covers over me. I waited his next words trembling, with bated breath. The oath. It all came back to that, somehow. It always did.

"'In this life and even unto the coldness of the void…' It means that I have bound myself to your side, to your shadow, on every plane of existence. In life and death. And you, without knowing the meaning of the words you spoke, bound yourself in turn to me, in the old way."

His gaze was impassive on mine, and it seemed as if he were looking down at me from a great height, though he was standing, only, and I tucked in bed. Without any sort of warning, the corners of his mouth turned upwards in the slightest, _barest_ of smiles.

"Yes, Ikite. I would stay with you, if I could. I would return to you, if there was a way."

He didn't let me answer him, but instead turned out the light and made his way around the bed to his side. I was nearly shaking in the height of joy. Thus, as soon as he lay down, I reached tentatively for him and pulled him into my embrace.

"There is a way, Kimimaro. There _is_ a way. And it rests, currently, in Suna. Sasori of the Red Sand awaits me there. I am going to locate the scroll's whereabouts with Gaara's help…and he is going to steal it. I knew I couldn't prolong your life. It isn't possible. If Kabuto, with all of his research, talent, and opportunity couldn't keep you alive…there isn't any way. I knew that. There was no remedy for it. The only way to kill your illness is to let it die with you.

But I'm _selfish_, I'm a hateful, _selfish_ person, and I decided that I would care for you as best I could during your last days, to your very last moment, and let you die. In the Sand village, there is a scroll that can bring a person back from the dead at the cost of the user's life. I couldn't let Tobi bring you back using the scroll I'd bartered from Orochimaru because the caster can have complete command over the person resurrected.

You would have _hated_ me, if I had brought you back in that way, in a way that would allow Tobi to command you as he liked, that made you a marionette. It was my intention from the beginning to resurrect you, and in order to do that, _I need to go to Suna_. I can't bring you back to me any other way."

He lay almost frighteningly tense in my arms for a moment, as if in some stunned form of disbelief. I knew him well enough by now to probably uncannily accurately guess that he was comparing me to Orochimaru. The fact that Orochimaru had a jutsu like that in his arsenal all along…and wouldn't think to use it to help him must have stung. He slowly exhaled, and I felt as if, perhaps, his bones were trembling as I did, in vicious exultation.

"Bring me back to you, Ikite. When I die, bring me back."

I nodded into his shirt and released him, grinning like an idiot. I would remedy the situation with Gaara. It was time to truly set things in motion. Konoha would, for a while, at least, be Tobi's, and Suna would by under my thumb. Kimimaro and Itachi, both fated to die, would soon be safe, and then, it would be war.

In a Flurry of Leaves/End.


	12. Scroll 12

**Chapter 12: And With Her Finger Held Back the Sea**

"I don't care who you send, so long as they are capable of keeping a low profile. No one gets killed, in and out. Anything else would draw unnecessary suspicion. I like my current relationship with Konoha as it is. It's perfect for what we have planned."

"I'll send a White Zetsu. Anything else?"

I paused for a moment, looking at Pein's flickering form and knowing that Tobi was commanding him from the shadows, not stepping out because of Hidan, who was performing the Astral Projection jutsu so that I could communicate with them.

"I would like to know what Hidan and Kimimaro will do once I've left."

There was a brief moment of silence before Pein answered, in his especially Leader-like way, "Your servant shall set forth immediately 'on your trail' and Hidan will return to Rain to 'inform' me of your abduction."

"Where will Kimimaro _actually_ be going?" I asked, arms crossed over the terrifyingly smooth silk of my kimono. I had not missed the implication in his tone.

"What do you want him to do?"

Tobi. Even though I hadn't heard a peep from him throughout the entire conversation, I could imagine his voice as if it were layered over Pein's. My heart skipped a beat. A test? A challenge? A trap? If I sent Kimimaro back to base, he'd be, in a way, at Tobi's mercy. If I brought him with me, he'd have to travel to the Sand village alone, and any number of…_untoward_ things could happen to him.

I was careful, considerate. And I don't mean that in the Disney princess way.

"You seemed to wish to leave an…_impression_ of our prowess on this village. Perhaps it would be wiser for Kimimaro to come to Sand and "rescue" me. In fact, we could use this to further our interests later. When the Hokage announces my little 'secret' to the world."

There was a pause, and though it might have seemed to Hidan, who was bored and making a horribly amusing face, as if Pein was giving my proposal thought. I knew better.

"And what of returning from Sand?"

I didn't miss a beat.

"Once I'm finished helping Sasori, Kimimaro and I can make our way back home alone. I'd slow Sasori down, not to mention I think he'll be better pleased traveling alone and getting back to his work more quickly. Is that to your satisfaction?"

Pein paused (listening) and nodded.

"This is acceptable. Inform Sasori of this change upon your arrival."

I inclined my head and murmured an assent and a goodbye and then flopped on to my bed, thinking a few choice words that Hidan opted to say aloud as he released the jutsu.

"Fucking uptight bastard. It's not that asshole that has to fucking keep up that bleeding leg of goat jutsu while he stands there and _thinks_ about whether or not that's fine. Fuck that shit. He's fucking _Leader_. He's supposed to fucking _decide_ things. And you're the fucking advisor. He should just nod at whatever you say that makes sense and roll with it. Fucking limp-dick fag."

"This is acceptable" meant to me a lot more than it would have to, say, Hidan, who didn't know of Tobi's existence. That, for me, was a small victory. I had answered _correctly_, and thus had ensured Kimimaro would be under my "protection" for the duration of my now much shorter absence from him. I didn't need to turn around to where he leaned against the wall, waiting, to know that he was _pleased_.

And oh, what a refreshing change that was. Kimimaro was pleased with me. I had made him happy. I almost wanted to dance around like a fool. I refrained, of course, but I felt that I had at least in a small part made up for my neglecting him.

It took the first of the White Zetsu clones only a little over a day to arrive in Leaf. It was ridiculously quick, though Rain Country bordered the Fire Country and it was a relatively easy road from there. He reported to my hotel at seven in the evening, ready to go.

The hotel staff had, in the month that I'd stayed there, gotten to know my habits and likes pretty well. They were also no strangers to the fact that I wasn't unknown to take the occasional evening walk. This was very much to my advantage.

There's something a little strange about going for a walk _just because_ I want my stalker to find out I have another stalker, but that's what I did. For three nights. Until tonight, at which point I would either get lucky, or…I _wouldn't_. And that, I thought to myself, a little bead of sweat condensing on my brow as I glanced around myself shiftily, having been caught in a sudden, cool gust of air, would be _bad._

There had been no sign of Gaara at all. Not hide, not a hair of him. Today was going to be our last shot at getting him to reveal himself. Because if he didn't, I'd die.

Not literally, of course! I mean, it would be counterproductive for me to die at this point, especially at the hands of, well, myself. Rather, we were hoping to lure him out by staging a confrontation between a Leaf Village shinobi…and me.

Yeah, I know that would be the shortest battle in the history of battles, but it's not like what it sounds, I swear. Well, it is. White Zetsu had adopted the guise of a Leaf Shinobi he had killed and…_replaced_. He would confront me over my supposed "dealings" with the Sand. And if my life being in danger didn't draw Gaara out, I, quite frankly, have no idea what would.

It was thus that I found myself suddenly transported to a rooftop, a kunai knife to my throat, an arm like a vice around my waist and a gruff voice ordering me to "Stay quiet and don't move. You will respond to any and all questions I will present to you truthfully and politely, and you will be detained by ANBU Black Ops until your name is either cleared or until you will face trial for aiding and abetting foreign shinobi with intention of invasion. Should you try to run, you will immediately be killed, and should your involvement be proven, the Leaf Village will take actions against Rain Country and declare a state of war."

Perfect.

"I-I don't know what you're-"

"The detained will not speak unless in response to a question asked by the interrogator."

I fell silent, feeling genuinely uncomfortable pressed against the strange ninja. If it was actually _Zetsu_, I wouldn't have minded. Zetsu, of course, knowing who I am and all that. For real. Zetsu is surprisingly close to Tobi. Well, as close as one can be to such a man.

"Are you engaged in friendly relations with the Sand shinobi known as 'Gaara of the Desert?'"

I pretended to be terrified. And I did so with not a little hint of actual fear. The roof, though a place I liked to sit back in Rain, with Kimimaro near, was much different with an "enemy" shinobi attacking you. I mean, I know that the man in front of me is Zetsu, but…it's not. It's some Leaf shinobi. Is it so unbelievable that I can't shake the nervous feeling that I have in the pit of my stomach, seeing some unknown man's face in the place of…a friend's.

"Friendly relations? Well, yes, but I don't see what that has to do with-"

"You will answer all questions with yes or no."

"I-yes."

He didn't give me a break, not for a moment, and rather continued on to ask a bunch of yes/no questions until he decided I was, apparently, "guilty."

"Izanagi Ikite, you are hereby placed under arrest by orders of the Third Hokage for attempting or aiding and abetting those who would attempt to stage an invasion of the Leaf Village. You will be turned over to ANBU interrogators for further questioning. As the leader of a shinobi nation, you will be treated as such and do not qualify for any protections that are under usual circumstances extended to civilian threats, as is stated in Section V, paragraph iii of the Torture and Interrogation Index as written by the Council of Elders-"

He hadn't meant to check in on her the night before. She couldn't get caught up in the invasion, after all. She was too easy a target, yes, too easy. But he had…stopped by, so to speak, when he felt her presence and didn't find her irritating caretaker's. And, for all his efforts, (which considering he was occasionally still half restraining himself from killing her) he had found her on a walk, being shadowed by a Leaf ninja.

Gaara had not been pleased, to say the very least. In fact, he had nearly given himself away, so enraged was he at seeing that bastard following her. He had been…what was the word…? _Selfless_. He had been _selfless_, thinking first of _her_ and not his preference to keep her close. She was…interesting, and he rather wanted to keep her isolated from the rest of the world, so that she would love _him_, and _only him_. He hated it, those times he saw her smile at the Uchiha brat-who would be paying for every gentle expression turned in his direction in their match tomorrow. He hated it when she patted the pathetic blonde's head, when she returned an great hug from the snot-nosed, affection starved moron.

And even worse, how he had hated watching her with her servant. The white-haired man, he wanted to _murder_ him. And not because he could sense that he was strong-and he _was_. But no, it was because Ikite loved him, and the man moved about her like a shadow, quietly, basking in her unadulterated affections. He would have to go. Preferably in a shower of blood and guts. Ikite could stand under his parasol with him, Gaara affirmed, relishing the image in his mind of Kimimaro's death.

No, he had made the attempt at being "good." And look where it had gotten him. His Ikite, being stalked by Leaf shinobi. It was no wonder then, that he had chosen to follow her tonight. And now, to add figurative insult to injury, she was being interrogated.

He would not stand for it. But still, he watched. Interested in seeing what the Leaf village knew. He didn't know what he would do at this rate. Well, he did, but he couldn't bear to have his only friend-_Yes. _He rejoiced in his mind, unlike the average person feeling a sudden bloodlust brought on by his savage joy, _she had called herself his friend_. No, his only friend would not be apart from him again.

The only way to keep her safe from the Leaf now, he rationalized, his sand beginning to trickle down the roof he was standing on, moving in what looked suspiciously like the direction of his friend and her captor, was to keep her with him. He would protect her, kill anyone who could possibly interfere in their happiness, and things would be perfect.

His plan was flawless. He would, of course, inform her of said plan _after_ the fact, because he remembered his useless siblings complaining to each other loudly (they were much quieter and more tolerable when they didn't think he was out) about their missions and the resistance of live captives. Gaara had never had to deal with taking a live captive, but there was a first time for everything and Ikite was sure to be patient and forgiving.

When they arrived in Suna, she could choose a room at his house. Temari's, probably, because Temari was a girl and her room was more likely to be to Ikite's tastes. Temari could move in with Kankuro. Gaara didn't really care. He supposed he could obtain some new clothes for her as well. Or perhaps he would have one of his siblings seal her trunk into a scroll. No, better do that himself. The incompetence of his blood relatives sickened him.

"…as is stated in Section V, paragraph iii of the Torture and Interrogation Index as written by the Council of Elders-"

His sand struck at once, with the same, terrible speed and accuracy with which it defended him. The Leaf shinobi didn't have the chance to finish his sentence-he was engulfed in the metallic reek of thousands and thousands of grains of sand all at once, and a split second later, when Gaara opened and closed his hand and growled, with unremitting pleasure, "_Sand coffin," _the man died in a splatter of blood and guts.

It is surprisingly different, seeing Gaara kill someone in the pages of a book, and having him slaughter someone-someone you _know_-_right in front of you_.

It was warm. And I don't mean that in the warm and fuzzy sort of way. I mean that in the holy fucking _hell_, there is blood all over my face, and it's warm, rapidly cooling, but _warm_, and I thought to myself, in a moment of hysteria, that I was lucky I wasn't standing an closer to him, because I thus avoided being splattered with chunks of his guts too.

I was sick, literally sick at that point. White Zetsu. He died. I mean, he still existed, of course, but I had just witnessed him die. I hadn't…I hadn't thought of that part of the plan. I had killed him. And I knew, I thought, my stomach turning, that I would again. But, White Zetsu, the real one, he still existed.

But he was dead. I watched him die.

"Ikite."

I stumbled, away from whatever was left of the body, away from the appalling stench of Gaara's sand and the sickening sight of…of snapped bones.

"Ikite." Gaara growled a little more insistently. And, rather irrationally, I sat up and scrambled towards him, throwing my arms around him and pulling him close. As if he needed comfort, not me. I had just, essentially, made him kill a man.

"G-Gaara."

Oh, I was feeling sick. I was shaking, probably as pale as-well, that comparison is in bad taste at the moment. I hadn't felt this way when I'd stabbed Hidan, and then, too, I had directly caused the death of another being.

The next thing I knew, I was lying in my bed in the hotel room, Kimimaro's slim fingers skimming over my forehead gently, his brow ever so slightly furrowed in the way that generally meant he was pissed at me. Or rather, _didn't approve of what I had done/was doing_. He'd told me he never got "pissed" at me, though I beg to disagree.

"You fainted."

Glancing up at him a little blearily, and plenty cheekily, I smiled.

"Did I?"

With a sigh, he turned and left me to my own devices. Or so I thought. He rummaged in my trunk and retrieved a clean set of pajamas (baggy shirt for the win!) and tossed them over to me, that expression still on his face.

"You're covered in blood."

I looked down at myself and realized that this, most assuredly, was true. I wondered, vaguely, how long I had been out, considering that I no longer even noticed the smell. Feeling suddenly revolted, I all but tore off my outer robe, heading straight for the shower as if water could wash the red away.

The water was already on, a bit more on the cooler side like I liked it. I practically leapt in, so exuberant was I, so desperate, and stayed under the calming rush of water for nearly an hour, maybe even more. And I can tell you, rather than anguish over my guilt, or cry, or feel disgusted with myself, for that blissful period of time, I didn't think _at all_.

"Here we go, 'Maro. The match we've all been waiting for…" I murmured, leaning forward in my seat with delicious anticipation thrumming in the marrow of my bones.

Kimimaro didn't answer, but rather scanned the surrounding area for anything that might be considered a threat. He was aware that we would all be placed under genjutsu, and I supposed he didn't want to risk letting his guard down or something? I didn't know it at the time, but he was looking for a certain Leaf kunoichi, and it wasn't out of friendly interest.

Anyway, Gaara and Sasuke fought. I remember watching that fight like, sixty-billion times when I was in middle school, because for some reason that particular episode was always rerun on the television. And I don't really feel like recounting it with my dramatic and wildly inventive turn of phrase. Plus…I kind of hated watching it. Sasuke and Gaara trying to kill each other, I mean. Well, at least I knew what was going to hap-

A wave of sand, erupted from the ground and I fell backwards in my chair, coughing. It was…_everywhere_. And there was a strangled scream of pain from the obscured stadium. What the hell-_That wasn't supposed to happen_.

"Shit-"

I sat up like a bolt of lightning, shielding my nose and mouth by tying the sheer scarf I'd brought draped over my shoulders. Thank goodness for clothes that are useless in terms of what their intended purpose was, eh?

"'Maro? Are you alright?" I asked, annoyed but thankful for the scarf, which, though slightly obscuring my vision, permitted me to at least somehow see without going blind.

There was no answer, and as I glanced around worriedly, I didn't see him. Until, that is, I heard a terrible, hacking cough and wheeled around just in time to see white robes whip over the railing of the box I had been given.

Without thinking, I lunged after him.

Have you ever had a dream where you're falling? This was nothing like that. For a brief, brief moment, so caught up in the rushing whirlwind of sand was I, that I felt like-no, I am _not_ going to say "like I was flying." It was nothing like that. I felt, for a moment, _suspended_, as if I was either going to plummet down to the earth and then into some dank cesspit in the realm of hell, or as if an angel was going to take my hands and lift me up through the solid inferno of sand to paradise. It was anticipation, heart-shattering, nerve-bracing, deliciously savage, wildly exhilarating _anticipation_. It was the edge, and though I was still technically on it, I had lost my balance and I _knew_ I was falling.

And then gravity reclaimed me and I literally _was_ falling, and my little moment of spiritual enlightenment (or whatever you want to call it) was over and fear overtook me.

I screamed. Everything stopped.

And then, rather than falling down, I was traveling at a terrifying speed to my _left_.

"You fell." Gaara growled at me accusingly, as if I had _chosen_ to leap over the bloody railing like an idiot. I blinked when I realized that he was holding me, taking me far away from what sounded like explosions. And then, turning my head back so that I could watch the stadium, I realized two things.

One, _I was being abducted to Suna by Gaara of the Desert_ and two, _that maybe, just maybe, Gaara was __**right**__ to accuse me, because if I hadn't fallen trying to reach 'Maro, I would have jumped_. And that was a thought that frightened me a little, and at the same time made me feel somewhat _good_. Because…it was proof that I wasn't deceiving myself. I was sincere in my affections for the people I had grown to love in books, and that wasn't a lie I told myself to rationalize my methods. It was comforting.

And then, as an afterthought, I realized one more thing.

"It was you. 'Maro didn't fall-he was blinded by the sand in the air and you _pulled_ him."

He didn't deny it, just kept running, and it was only then that I realized that he had wasn't bleeding. As in, wasn't stabbed by Sasuke's freaking chidori not-bleeding. And…

It was just us.

"Are-Are we being followed?"

Gaara shook his head. I didn't know whether to be relieved or, well, terrified.

"Is…Is 'Maro alright?"

He stared ahead so blankly that it scared me, and then almost petulantly answered me.

"Yes."

I sighed in aching, real relief. Then, peeking up at him (which was completely and entirely ridiculous, seeing as he's a twelve-year-old boy and I'm like a foot taller than him) shyly, I asked him, "And you, Gaara? Are _you_ alright?"

The corners of his mouth twitched upwards in a gleeful leer and he made no response other than that. And it was in that moment that I realized I was free. Well, I was technically in captivity, considering that I knew Gaara rather well enough to safely say that he was taking me to Sand simply for the purpose of keeping me near him, like a child jealously guarding his favorite toy, but…I had done it. And I felt, as I had not felt in a long time, _free_.

We stopped only twice on the way to Sand. Kankuro and Temari had met up with us at one point, and it was awkward as hell, but Gaara sent them all but literally packing and we completed the journey alone. He had, apparently, stolen my things. That surprised me. Pleasantly, of course, but it did. He wasn't the type, I had thought, to think ahead like that in a situation created by consideration rather than in battle. I'm actually really embarrassed to admit it, but he carried me nearly the entire way there. A twelve-year-old. Carried me. Jashin knows how many miles, all the way to Sand.

It felt like it was in no time at all that we were suddenly right in front of the gates of the Sand Village. No one seemed to question my presence, or even look at me as Gaara set me down on shaky legs as the gate closed behind us. Even so, I suddenly couldn't breathe. The atmosphere was tense, choking. And I felt as if, right outside the gates, in that endless expanse of sand, lit up like fire in the blaze of the setting sun, an entire sea was waiting to come crashing down on me. I had plugged the dam with my finger, and the cracks were spreading.

And With Her Finger Held Back the Sea/End.


	13. Scroll 13

**Chapter 13: While the World is Held at Bay**

"You…you wish for me to become Kazekage?" Gaara asked, his pale eyes widened in what was his special version of an expression of disbelief.

I nodded.

"Who would be better suited? _You_ have the power. No one else compares. And _you_, Gaara…_you_ tried so hard to make them acknowledge you once. If you become the Kazekage, they _will_. You are more than capable of love, Gaara. You could love your village, your people. And they would love you in return! Even if all are against you-your _actions_ will convey your change."

He didn't look convinced. I reinforced my encouragement by softly stroking his cheek, by spreading my arm out towards the window in a grandiose, almost intoxicating gesture.

"Imagine it! The world would be your domain, Gaara, and your people would love you for it."

It was really much harder to convince him that I'd thought it would be.

"I don't care about them."

Perhaps it was a lie, perhaps he believed it. I wanted to know why.

"Isn't that what you wanted, though? For people to-"

He hugged me. No, that wasn't quite the word. He _clutched_ at me, like I was a stuffed toy, or a favorite blanket, tangling his fingers in my loose hair as if to pull me back to him if I ever tried to leave. Gently, I returned his savage, starving embrace.

"Gaara, dearest…Who am I?"

He didn't have to even think about it.

"Ikite."

I didn't let myself stiffen, but rather stroked his hair. The way he said it, he might as well have growled, "_Mine._" But then, that was how he always said it.

"Yes, Gaara. I'm Ikite. _Izanagi_ Ikite. I had a different name once, but…that name does not exist in this world. I am Izanagi Ikite, and I am the princess of Rain."

Gah, that last part sounded so _cheesy_. But it was true. And in the time I had spent there, and with Konan and Pein, I had grown to love my village. Haha, imagine me saying that. _My village_. As if I belonged there. But then…I had been working to make Rain a world power, hadn't I? I had been basing my plot around strengthening it, making it an economic powerhouse, and…I had enjoyed meeting the people of the country that I didn't really have much to do with running. They liked me. They respected me. And I cared for them in turn.

Plus, I was officially a citizen of Rain Country. Previously, I hadn't been a citizen of anywhere. Admittedly, it was thanks to Pein's influence that I was given documents and such, but still. The country and the village had accepted me, and I would do my best to return that hospitality. So…perhaps it was my village after all.

Not in a sense of ownership, of course, simply that…I felt that Rain Country and the Rain Village had a claim on me, and I willingly accepted that.

"Ikite." Gaara reiterated, placing his head on my shoulder in a rather aggressive movement.

"Be Ikite. Nothing else."

Be _mine_. Nothing else.

I pushed that translation of his words from my mind, deciding I was reading too much into things. I thought, briefly, with perhaps a little tentative amusement, of what seemed like a faraway time in my own life. Raising my hand in a classroom…no, I would use the skills I had learned, but the life I had once was nothing here. _Nothing_.

"You don't need to be anything else." He muttered, sounding slightly crazed, a little less slightly frightening. Needy. Merciless.

And I understood him then, a child still, and I thought, just another day. Just until tonight, I will let him be a child again. I smiled.

"Gaara, would you like to play a game with me?"

The way his face turned towards me as if carved out of unforgiving stone didn't give him away, but the near tremble in his hands did. My expression became a little gentler.

"How about we find a ball and play a game of catch?"

He didn't say a word about how stupid all this was as I gently led him away, holding his hand, to find a ball. He didn't say a word as we threw it back and forth, and played ridiculous games like hide-and-seek and tag. (Both of which are _terrifying_ to play against a ninja).

The only word he said was said hours later, when I drew him back to the roof to rest for a moment before speaking seriously to him as I had planned. I lay down comfortably to bask in the beauty of the moon, and he sat beside me, watching that pale face in the sky shine down on the world for several minutes before presumably turning to me.

I had closed my eyes to rest; I was awake, sentient, but blissfully out of it all at once.

"Childish," he muttered, sitting at my side, a blank, unfeeling expression on his face.

"Childish."

"I apologize for keeping you waiting for so long…I know how much you hate it. I had…pressing matters to attend to." I said, clearly, decisively, maybe, as I bowed a little at the Akatsuki robed mass before me.

What a shame, I thought to my self, unsurprised. He, a person I've rather expectantly awaited to meet, was in Hiruko.

"Hurry up." A gravelly voice ordered, not acknowledging nor forgiving my tardiness and I followed him into a dark workshop. There was really no other word for the dimly lit, cluttered room before me. I wasn't offered a chair, so I simply stood where I was and figured I'd sit on a table if I got tired. Or something.

I didn't waste any time and got straight down to business.

"Presuming you are not uninformed as to our purpose here, I'll firstly inform you of a change in the plan. It's minor, and I intended it for our mutual benefit. I know you were likely irritated at the thought of having to _escort_ me back to Rain, and I know that you _do_ have less bothersome tasks to dedicate yourself to. Kimimaro shall be joining us at the end of the operation, and he shall be taking me off your hands as soon as it is complete. Is this amenable to you?"

He stared at me with unblinking, entirely empty eyes. It was an effective look, one that easily answered my question in a rude, impatient manner.

"What is my mission?"

I stared at him, for a second nearly choking. He didn't know? He really _didn't know_? I cursed Tobi, that _jackass_, for a moment before schooling a patient, more importantly _not angry_ expression on my face and resigned myself to explaining.

"We're here to steal a scroll from your grandmother."

I swear, there were crickets in this rickety shack and they were chirping.

"_What?_"

Oh. Right. Tobi didn't know of Chiyo's relation to Sasori. And I hadn't felt the need to inform him of it…so of course he would think it should be impossible that I know. Crap.

"What did they tell you about me, Sasori of the Red Sand?"

Expressionless. Unfeeling. And pissed as _fuck_. It seemed I had a _lot_ of explaining to do.

"I hope you don't mind it terribly if I tell you a few things about yourself that I probably shouldn't know. It's the securest way of proving my claims, I've found."

A pause. And then, in the fashion of a true fan girl, I bit my lip and looked at him in the _least_ nauseatingly inviting way I could.

"When I'm done, could I…maybe…_pretty please _see some of your puppets?"

There was a beat of silence and then a gruff, noncommittal sound that seemed to waver between approval, disgust, and a detached sort of bloodlust-the kind born of at least mild irritation. I took it as a yes and launched into the most blunt, thrifty explanation I had ever made to date. Sasori would appreciate it better that way, I rationalized.

"I come from a world in which the happenings of this world are written in a series of books, which I have read. After two years, an event occurred that drove me to join the Akatsuki and use my knowledge to change the future. Thus, we are here now."

It really might have just been that I was sick and tired of explaining myself. It really might have been. And even being so brutally _blunt_, it still took me half an hour to do so "to his satisfaction." And by _that time_, it was time to go.

"Ikite."

Childish. Petulant. Reluctant. I'd been hearing my name a lot recently, but I didn't say anything, because I knew that when Gaara said it, it was an affirmation. It was less the name people called me by in his mind and more a word that chained my affection to his reality.

As long as I answered to it, I loved him. Perhaps _that _was his logic.

"Gaara." I answered in kind, a smile slipping across my face, though my tone was a little that of a reprimand. All day yesterday I had played with him, hugged him, stroked his hair and given him everything he had been denied as a child. And when the sun had set, I had taken him aside, and I had stoked the fires of ambition in his heart.

There was no room in my plans for possessiveness from Gaara. And though there might be…_consequences_, I felt sure enough to tell him about myself, and at least a little of my plans.

He had no love for the Sand, after all, and though I would foster that in him later, I wanted him first and foremost to remember me. If Naruto had become his first friend…he would have admired him, felt that he owed him, and endeavored always to work with and support him. I wanted that, for Rain. For me. Because I was getting to that point in the game where I was beginning to perhaps fear for my life.

Tobi's absence, while permitting me the luxury of calm and all other sorts of fancy free feelings, had now become a twisted nightmare lurking in the back of my mind, taunting, mocking, and was murdering with a vicious glee every opportunity I had to _sleep_.

There was a vague, indefinite idea mulling back and forth in my mind-a plan for my future, you might say. A future I might make in the Sand. If things in Rain didn't work out…not that I wanted to leave Rain, but I wasn't blind to the possibilities of what might happen if I stayed past my welcome, "princess" or not…if things didn't work out, I could come here.

It's true, I hate the heat. I'm pale and I'll burn like paper. But Kimimaro and I could live there in peace. I thought we could. And Gaara, so wrapped around my finger as he currently was, would surely give me citizenship, or residency at least, would keep us both as safe as he could from even the clutches of Tobi.

"Have you thought about what I told you last night?" I asked the red-headed boy beside me, my tone solemn, and perhaps a little curious.

He was quiet for a moment, and I could practically _feel_ his insecurity.

"I don't want you to leave." He growled, his voice low, almost, no, scratch that, viciously threatening. He might as well have tacked that desperate "_me"_ to the end, for all the good omitting it did him.

"You did very well today, Gaara. Thank you."

I was being one hundred percent sincere. He had not followed me. (And believe me, if he _had_, I would have known. Sasori would have let me know by, oh, I don't know, _murdering him_). That he respected me enough to let me leave, trusted me enough to return, that boded well for the future I had planned.

He didn't answer, so I didn't say anything and set aside informing him that I would be leaving to rendezvous with Sasori again soon. As soon as, to be exact, I had ascertained the location of the scroll from Gaara.

I was so close now, so close I could _taste_ it. So I spent three more days with him, and he did my dirty work for me, thought I had a sneaking feeling that he did his snooping (if anything Gaara does can be described in such a mild, perhaps even comical fashion) at the very last minute in a boyish attempt at delaying my inevitable departure.

"Why do you want me to…become Kazekage?"

I looked at him, trying to hide the pleased look about my face. He hadn't been very receptive to the idea before, and the fact that he was asking me to explain my reasoning was a sure sign that his resolve to not indulge me was weakening.

"I have told you of my plans, Gaara. War is coming, and Sand, because you are in it, is dear to my heart. I would ally myself with the Kazekage. This is why."

The idea was apparently so distasteful to him, he was prepared to seek a more desperate alternative.

"I'll come with you. To Rain." He growled, his eyes trained on mine in a way that seemed to convey some forming instability in the root of his mind. I shook my head.

"No, Gaara. Rain is not suited to you and your abilities. And…it is a dangerous place there. But Suna, dearest, is your _home_. It has treated you badly, it has been a vile and savage place, but it has the potential to be so much _more_."

I lay my hand gently on his hair, in a sisterly gesture, brushing it (or vainly attempting to brush it, since I knew it would never lay flat) down with my fingers.

"You want to be of use to me, Gaara?" I asked, getting to the root of the matter without preamble as he was vulnerable beneath my touch.

"If you do…_become Kazekage_. I'll love you just as much if you don't, but if you want to be of use…that is what you must do. Become Kazekage. Lead and love your people and they will love you in turn. Would you believe me, Gaara, if I told you that in another time, you were respected and adored by the people of your village, that you were admired by shinobi from every village, and that you lead an allegiance of the five great shinobi villages into war?"

He had frozen, looking at me in stunned disbelief. Well, with a wide-eyed expression that conveyed what he was feeling, his mouth in a grim line out of habit. I kept talking.

"I took that from you, Gaara, by coming here, by meeting you. And I'll give it back as best I can. Do this for yourself, Gaara, as much as you'd do it for me."

He didn't answer, but in his expression I got a fleeting taste of the elusive victory I had so desired. He was in sight of the path that would lead him to the future closest to the one that he had first had that I could give him while keeping him safe, and I was pleased.

He let me go again the next day without a word of protest and nary a threatening glare.

"Sa-"

I stared at the unforgiving redhead man in front of me, his name dying on my lips. Upon seeing the unreadable expression on his face, I cleared my throat and tried again.

"Sasori."

He didn't say anything, merely watched me for a moment before turning abruptly and walking back down the hallway from whence he had come without even bothering to beckon me to follow him. I did, of course, trying to school my look of stunned disbelief into one of (preferably mild) surprise.

He was out of Hiruko. He was testing me. And though I felt I'd had more of that lately than I did in high school, my mind shook off its weariness and immediately began to race. What was the point of this? To see if I'd recognize him? That might prove my claim a little better, but it seemed too simple a possible motive for someone like him.

We were in the workshop once more when he spoke.

"Well?"

Dear Jashin. Dear, _dear_ Jashin. That _voice_. As if his looks-which were somehow more apparent up close like this-weren't enough. It's not fair. But let it never be said that Izanagi Ikite is so easily struck dumb by a man's (godly) good looks and rather (drop dead _sexy_) nice voice. I fumbled in the sash of my kimono for the coded note given to me by Gaara.

It hadn't occurred to me until that particular moment, but the note was written in a top secret form of coding generally used only by the Kazekage to communicate sensitive information for A-rank mission and up.

Gaara had all but handed me his village on a platter.

"You'll be able to read this."

It wasn't a question, not really, but it wasn't quite a statement. Gaara _had_ explained it to me, and had given me a rather brusque lesson on deciphering it, but I was really hoping that Sasori could manage because I had a feeling I'd only piss him off trying to explain.

He didn't acknowledge me in any way other than taking the note from my hand, skimming over it, and placing it on a little table that had some strange looking plants hanging-_drying_-directly above it. And then he was watching me, from the shadows.

Is it sad that rather than wondering if he was going to kill me, I had become so jaded that I was able to forgo rational thinking and skip straight ahead to _damn, he's hot_.

"You seem surprised. But you never once wavered in your conviction that I was…Sasori." He said blankly, staring seemingly to something just behind me, a little to my left. I saw what he was trying to do, trying to gauge if I really did know who he was, and trying to see if I had gotten my information from another source by testing me to see if I would begin to doubt.

"Of course I'm surprised. You generally prefer Hiruko. Which is understandable, because it eliminates one of very few drawbacks to ninja puppetry. I understand that I am in no way of any possible threat to you, so perhaps I could conclude that you felt that there was no harm in taking a bit of fresh air, but…that's unlike you as well.

And it certainly isn't that you've decided that I am a threat and plan to kill me, because I sincerely doubt that you'd need more than a pinky finger controlling an armed play puppet to do that, and it would be ridiculous to think you'd give me the honor of being dispatched by your own perfected self…You're testing me, and I don't know how to answer you. It would be too simple for me to pass by affirming that I know what _you_ yourself really look like, and you believe me to a certain extent anyway, but you would never waste your time with something so pointless, so I am forced to conclude that you are either:

One, attempting to figure out if I'm a spy that has been incredibly well-informed by my employer, who would be presumed to be from Sand, as they would have the most "recent" picture of you to match you to, and you would of course suspect that the my Sand employer either is or is affiliated with your grandmother, _or_…"

A slight smirk crossed my face. I was just messing. I couldn't help it.

"_Or_, two: You are attempting, with the aid of your mellifluous voice and wildly attractive body, to take advantage of the fact that I am a sucker for redheads and seduce me."

There was a beat of silence and, though his expression didn't change, I felt that there was some definite amusement in his (sexy) voice when he answered.

"You pass." He said, unimpressed, but I knew he must have been to admit it and thus grinned.

"I'm glad I meet your expectations. For a weak, hardly competent _civilian_, of course."

He didn't trust me, but at least he was interested. Which honestly, with these shinobi types, is not very difficult to bring about. Especially because of the inherent superiority complex strong ninja all seem to have. Sasori is perfect, he is strong, he has killed many people and has turned them into literal tools at his disposal. People are scared of him. For me to reiterate what he is thinking about how generally pathetic I am, etc. etc. is to be wildly different from pretty much everyone else that they have ever met.

Shinobi all seem to have that superiority complex, don't they?

"Let's get to work."

"Yes, sir!"

While the World is Held at Bay/End.


	14. Scroll 14

**Chapter 14: Pros and Cons**

Ignoring the utterly terrified guards posted at the entrance to what looked to be a large administrative building, Gaara took hold of my hand and tugged me forward.

"Here."

I looked upon the double doors in a wonder similar to the way I had when I first gazed upon the gate to the Leaf Village. In one swift stroke, I would strike gold. That thought in mind, I turned in a rather mousy fashion to our third companion, my expression one of deliberate anxiety, and immediately looked back to Gaara.

"I-I shall stay with ANBU-san, then?"

Gaara nodded unblinkingly, his expression a little dark as he too stared down the doors.

He would be going before the council of elders to nominate himself for the position of Kazekage. It was Ikite's suggestion, that he do it now, because the Sand was without a leader, and vulnerable in that weakness. Ikite had figured that they would be considering him anyway at any rate, unsure as they were now that a war with Leaf might be coming, and she thought they might be desperate enough to accept him without another thought.

He was capable of protecting the village, after all, even if he did so by going out and slaughtering all of their enemies for his personal pleasure. Plus, it was unlikely that any other candidate suitable for their needs would be capable of controlling him.

And Gaara, with the goal of that position in mind, would not allow that.

Thus, upon entering the building, he nodded to the slim masked man beside Ikite and, without watching him take Ikite by the elbow and lead her away, prepared himself to meet the council that had approved his creation.

"ANBU-san, where are we going?" I asked, rubbing at my sore are a little petulantly.

The unidentifiable man beside me turned his (really, _really_ creepy) mask toward me and proceeded to shove me ill-mannerly into some strange sort of waiting room that I figured (judging by its intimidating and inhospitable appearance) was reserved for the sort of people that _really didn't want_ to see the council at all. Not that I was going to see the council, but I digress. I love how no one questions why there is an ANBU operative doing as Gaara bids him and keeping some civilian woman-or a woman with Kage(more like _God_)-level chakra suppression, but that's so unlikely it's hilarious-hostage in a waiting room.

"You enjoyed that a little too much, Sasori-san." I groused in a playful manner, referring to being practically tossed into the room on my ass.

Once again, there was a tinge of amusement in his voice, though it rapidly faded to a brisker, business-like tone when he answered, without hesitation, "I did."

He glanced around the room for a fraction of a second and then switched the mask he was wearing with another one, throwing a light tan cloak over his shoulders, pulling the hood over his head to cover the headdress he had used to hide his (gorgeous) hair.

"Stay here."

Dimpling, I nodded. It wasn't like I was stupid enough to A. disobey him or B. possibly ruin the plan by wandering about as I wished. That said, he shifted his attentions away from me (awwwww) and, with a quick hand sign, made a clone that looked like he did when we first stepped into the room and slipped out into the hallway.

It was looking like it was going to be a very silent hour and a half when suddenly, the Sasori clone grabbed me by the shoulder and all but slammed me into a chair.

Before I could ask him what he was doing (although I would have attempted that in a tactful, more direct manner than that), he did I don't even know what and suddenly, as if by magic, I was rendered immobile.

"You were careful, when you attempted to prove yourself to me. But not careful enough. You gave yourself away when you were talking about my grandmother."

My lips parted in the smallest of gasps and my mind began to race at breakneck speeds trying to figure out what on earth he was talking about. I hadn't told him anything untrue. I-

"You didn't lie. I know that. But you didn't tell me everything."

Blinking just once in careful confusion, I tried to get him to elaborate.

"I don't know what you mean."

There was a kunai pressed to my thigh, a seeming pinpoint of unveiled threat.

"_What did she do_?"

"Saso-"

I was cut off by a sudden increase of pressure on the little blade held to what I presumed was my femoral artery and then sighed, sitting back in my chair and turning my face up to his masked one with utter calm, and maybe even a little comfort on my features.

It _was_ a rather nice chair.

"I didn't want to tell you this, _Sasori of the Red Sand_, because I have already prevented it from ever coming to pass. You're forcing my hand, now, so don't say I didn't warn you."

Gently, I pushed the kunai away (and only succeeded because he _let_ me) from my leg.

"Your grandmother. She killed you."

The elders conferred, huddled together, casting dark glances at the twelve-year-old-boy that stood almost defiantly before them. It was true, yes, that they had been considering him…considering how to convince him, above all, but for him to come before them…

"We would have you bring the woman you have captured before us, then, Gaara of the Sand, as a proof of your _change-of-heart_."

Gaara did not back down from the challenge, nor did he go about slaughtering everyone in the room. The council looked upon this rather favorably, all things considered.

"That woman is under my protection."

A loud guffaw erupted from a councilman known as _Asaru-sama_, startling them all. Other councilmen and women looked from Asaru to Gaara and back again nervously.

"Do you have a problem?" Gaara growled, his expression darkening.

The pot-bellied little man in ceremonial robes returned his courtesy with an ugly look.

"As a matter of fact I do. Under _your_ protection? Firstly, demon child, you're a _murderer_. The idea of any _thing_, even less any _one_ being under your protection is quite preposterous! And even then-_if_ this woman _was_ to be considered as under so flimsy and unbelievable a thing as _your protection_, what makes you think your words have any weight in this council?"

It was a shock, to say the least, when Gaara didn't flat out murder the man.

"You are a shinobi of the Sand! You are prostrate before this council, and you had better learn that lesson well. In the event of the Kazekage's death, the council-"

"Is in power only as long as it takes for a new Kazekage to be chosen. I aim to be the fifth."

As Gaara stepped forward, his mind was, to what would have been the surprised chagrin of the council, far away and not in the room with them at all. It was on a woman draped in blazing scarlet red, on a sweet smile, a cunning mind, and the words she had spoken to him on the night she truly turned his life around.

"_I'll love you just as much if you don't."_

"_Would you believe me, Gaara…?"_

"_Do this for yourself, Gaara, as much as you'd do it for me."_

She hadn't told him to do anything. She had encouraged, but she had given him the option. She hadn't _ordered_ him. She hadn't treated him like a tool to be used, but had given him the chance to be of use. Maybe that had been what he had always wanted. To be of use to someone, to be necessary, to be _loved_.

"_I am Izanagi Ikite, and I am the princess of Rain." _

She had shown him a path he had never before envisioned, and he had fallen for it, hard. He wanted to be like _her_. He wanted to protect and love and be…_worthy_ of the love that she gave him. He wanted to love like she did, so that he could…

He didn't know what it was that he wanted to do, but he knew that he wanted to live up to her image, to stand where she stood, to be as she was. She had…_inspired_ him, somehow.

He knew she was cunning. He knew she was manipulative, cruel, even, and honestly, it made him respect her a little. That nerve of hers…he could never have admired her as much as he did if she hadn't been something _other_ than soft, inviting, gentle.

And yet, she was all of those things as well, and more importantly still, _sincere_.

He was a savage killer. But it was possible, yes, she had shown him it was possible, to take the darker parts of one's existence and turn them into weapons to be pointed at the enemies of one's precious people. Ikite was no ninja. She was a woman, with a brilliant, calculating mind, and she had turned what she had at her disposal towards building a better future for the people that she loved.

Like her, then, he would turn _his_ strength, his sand, his lust for blood, and he would turn it towards the enemies of his country, towards the protection of his people and towards becoming the might of his most precious, precious friend.

"I will defend this village. I will hunt its enemies. I will do all in my power to make Suna strong once more, to make it prosper. I will give you, the council, my word on that. But _that woman_, as you call her, is under my protection, and I will not yield her to you for any reason, even less as a show of _loyalty_."

"Impossible." He uttered, and for a moment I almost saw his eyes through that ridiculous mask.

"_Improbable_," I corrected perhaps a little frostily, crossing my arms.

He was scowling at me, I would have wagered a heck of a lot right then on the bet that he was _scowling_ at me. I snorted, turning my head away from him. It's not my problem that he seems to be unable to believe the fact that he got his ass handed to him by his grandmother and a pink-haired adolescent girl.

There was a beat of silence and then, without warning, I was released.

"I will retrieve your scroll."

I bit back a rather sassy retort-_really? You will? How nice of you to do what Pein ordered you to do for me!_-and instead waited for the impending rest of his little dialogue.

Because it's obviously coming, when a "villain" says something clear cut like that.

"I will retrieve your scroll, girl, and I will take it back to Rain, as I have been commanded. You and I will speak upon your return."

Hmm, awfully dramatic, no?

"Don't be late." He warned me, and disappeared in a puff of smoke.

I sat there for a moment, staring at the spot where he had vanished from before looking unsurely at the door and stumbling over the word, "_shit_."

In none of our meticulously schemed plans had we decided that he was to do that stupid ninja thing and "poof gone." What was I supposed to do now, hang around until Gaara was hopefully the first person to walk into the room? What was I going to do if some random Sand ninja walked in and was like, hey, what happened to the ANBU that was supposedly guarding you? Yeah. I thought so.

Anyway, because I apparently have some sort of absolutely ridiculous sense of self preservation, I did the smart thing and _fell asleep_.

I guess that all the scheming and manipulating had gotten to me-or perhaps it was simply my impending return to Tobi that was worrying me. He was an enigma, and I felt more comfortable, no, scratch that, I didn't even feel entirely comfortable around the people I knew everything about (barring Naruto, who just…isn't terrifying at all. Sorry). Tobi terrifies me.

But enough of that. I mean, I _know_ he's scary. That being a grossly exaggerated understatement. Anyway, I was _exhausted_ and fell asleep.

Waking up was like stumbling into a dream.

"Ikite, wake up." A quiet murmur above my head commanded, and I started.

"Wha-"

My dark hazel eyes met cool, clear ones and I sat up, abruptly throwing my arms about the man in front of me.

"'Maro!"

I, uh, won't lie, he stumbled back a bit when I threw myself at him. I'm pretty solid, so yeah. But it wasn't until he did that I realized that he was _ill_. I'd forgotten that it was about now in the timeline that he originally died, but then, I'd expected him to live longer since he wasn't exactly exerting himself like I expected he had for Orochimaru. I mean, he had been so well, comparatively. He hadn't been on some sort of life support device being medicated by Kabuto, at least, and that strikes me as _well_, thank you very much.

"'Maro, I missed you!"

His white robed arms wrapped themselves around me and I felt, suddenly, a sort of quiet solace that I hadn't known I'd been missing. It wasn't anything weird or ridiculous, like the waves of 'Maro's (nonexistent) romantic love for me enveloped me and made me feel safe (etc., etc.) as much as it was some strange sense of completion.

Like Peter Pan must feel when he finds his shadow again.

He didn't acknowledge me but rather gently took my hand and raised me up, so to speak, because I couldn't say "helped me up" because that's not what he did at all and stood up from where I had accidentally knocked him onto the couch a little stiffly.

"Ikite, I have your things." He murmured, almost…hesitantly(?) letting my hand slip from his fingers. I tilted my head at him, a little disoriented. (I can't help it, I sleep pretty soundly at night for…for a despicable person who has the blood of two people directly on her hands).

"You do?" I wondered. Must be one of those ninja things. Sealing scrolls, the like.

He nodded, opened his mouth to say something, but was cut off by Gaara walking calmly up to me and taking me into his arms.

I was so surprised, it took me a second to muster the presence of mind to hug him back.

"You're leaving," he mumbled into my shoulder, endearing himself to me by virtue of his rather short stature for a moment, his fingers digging a little into my shoulder blades in a way that seemed to me as if he was actively _trying_ not to "break" me.

I stroked his hair.

"I am, Gaara."

I _have_ to, I might have said, because things are moving and I need to be "recovered" from Sand, so that the "Hokage" can reveal the "true" role I played in the invasion of Leaf. I _need_ to, I wanted to tell him, because if I don't, I'll never cement my influence-_and thus Rain's_-over the Leaf village and probably this entire world.

This was end game, for the first phase of the plan. Reveal Rain to be a military and economic powerhouse. Check. Reveal puppet leader of Rain to be-well, let's just say "cement puppet leader of Rain's international influence" for now.

Then, wage war.

"I will be Kazekage."

I blinked. There was no way that-

"The council will approve me. You were right, Ikite. They were already considering me."

Of course they were. I didn't know what to say-or maybe I was just to keen to listen-so I was quiet, kept stroking his hair, and waited for him to continue.

"I want to love this village, Ikite. I want to build it up, make it strong, watch it…flourish…under my care. I understand, now, what you were trying to tell me before. And I want to be the man in the future you have seen. I want my people to respect me, not as a weapon, a blade that cuts both the hand that wields it and the enemy, but as a man, one who stands to…_defend _them. I understand, Ikite. But I still don't want you to leave."

It was a feeling that started somewhere in my chest and forced itself up into my throat in the form of a hysteric, silent giggle, the feeling that I got when I heard him say that. _I understand_, he said, and I thought for a moment, my head spinning, that he was the first person in this world to actually _understand_ what I meant. I mean, 'Maro understood me, always, but it was in a different way. Gaara was the first to understand the moral dilemma that I had been wrestling with since I first put my plan into action.

Can base and savage means, vileness and vice, be turned to virtuous purpose? Gaara had found his answer. And I, perhaps, had yet to find mine.

"We can take it easy, 'Maro, if it's easier for you." I said, throwing a sheer scarf around my throat so that, if necessary, I could use it to cover my mouth and nose as we traveled.

"I am a shinobi, Ikite. We will travel at the pace that best accommodates you."

I had offended him. Again.

"I'm sorry, 'Maro, I didn't mean-"

He hushed me suddenly, stopping in his tracks and gently putting his hand across my mouth. He listened for a moment, and relaxed. Not completely, I could guess, but he did relax. I figured it was just some patrolling squad-we weren't that far out of the village, after all.

We walked for two hours before I needed to rest. It is hot as _fuck_ here. Dry, which is a blessing, but _hot_. Cold at night, too, but I already knew that. I supposed that spending all my time with Gaara had offered me some protection from the heat-he was a night-owl, and the only time we left the house during the day was in the late afternoon when we played children's games together.

"Kimimaro, dear, you wouldn't happen to have something to eat with you, would you? I'm kind of…starving. Even a biscuit or two is fine. Or some of that delicious flatbread, or…"

"Ikite, _of course I have food_. How do you expect we'd survive without it?"

I blinked, glancing at him almost curiously. Sealing scrolls…I bet that's what his pack was full of. I wonder how long food keeps in a sealing scroll…? Or maybe you can't keep food in sealing scrolls, so his pack is filled with sealing scrolls _and _food. Oh, and money.

"I suppose I thought we'd do what we did traveling to Leaf. You know, stopping at inns and stuff. Or maybe I was _hoping_ you don't so a shirtless Sasori and his sexy voice could come out of nowhere and rescue us by…hunting deer or something. Then we could have venison for dinner!"

The look he gave me was about as close as I think he'll ever come to _incredulous_.

"Ikite, we're in the _desert_. I assure you there is no possibility of _venison_ for dinner here. And…Sasori? He is the puppet master you have spoken of. Why would he be here? He is supposed to be on his way back to Rain. And…"

He paused while I took the time to remember he hadn't actually _met_ Sasori.

"Why would he be stupid enough to wander shirtless in this sun?"

I couldn't take it anymore-I burst out laughing. Oddly enough, I felt him stiffen where he stood behind me, and I guess he suddenly got all jealous of the ridiculous number of hugs Gaara had gotten, because he stopped, grabbed me, and pulled me into him, as if he never wanted to let me go. Or, you know, as if he was trying to protect me.

"Stay still, Ikite." He murmured in that way of his, gently into my ear.

I did as I was told and as an added bonus shut up.

Pros and Cons/End.


	15. Scroll 15

**Chapter 15: Flood, Fire, and Plague**

I didn't move. I didn't speak. I simply closed my eyes in perfect trust, resting carefully, gently, against Kimimaro's chest, and waited.

It was because of this that I heard them before I saw them. I heard a soft, muffled thump, quiet, like the earth had exhaled, suddenly, silently, and then heard the sickening snap of bones and sinews being rearranged in Kimimaro's arms, tearing through the pale, scarred skin of his forearms and manifesting in strange, deadly sharp blades of bone.

There was a moment in which Kimimaro was behind me, a strong, solid presence I could have complete faith in-and then he was all around me at once, left, right, above, even below, I think, once, and moving with the fluidity of water in my defense. I heard his bones whistle as they sped through the air, heard the way the sand hissed as he turned, beautifully, gracefully probably, on his foot, heard the strange, choking sound of a man's sudden last breath, heard and even felt the spray of blood that burst warm from a body after the soft _squelch_ that told me that my 'Maro had torn his blade from an enemy shinobi's throat.

Somehow, it was a moment of utter _beauty_, listening to the sounds of death and chaos around me and knowing that I can stand _right there_, in the center of it all, and _listen_.

I was, for a moment, entirely fearless. And then, as if in sudden foresight, I was _terrified_. My eyes flew open.

"Ikite-"

He didn't shout, didn't scream, didn't do anything like that. He just-he said my name, and it was like an explosion of red from his mouth. Blood splattered my face, whether it was his or someone else's, I don't know, I couldn't even have told you how far away he was standing right then. He coughed. The blade in his right hand fell, and a ninja attacked, taking advantage of his sudden weakness. A flash of white silenced that man forever, and Kimimaro grimly straightened and drove his remaining blade into the throat of a man that had come up behind me. He spun and shot his fingertips into another man, was struck by another coughing fit, and-

Someone grabbed me from behind.

He would have fought for me. I know he would have. He would have fought until he died, with as much, if not more, utter devotion as he had against Gaara in the true reality of this world. And he did admirably, throwing off his next assailant, driving a bone of unknown origins into the next. Dancing around three more, catching them unaware as bones shot out of the ground. But when there was a knife to my throat, he stopped and looked on my captor with such loathing that for the first time seeing him, I was afraid. So I ended it.

"Stop this. Now." I ordered quietly, asserting myself as best I could. "We'll come along quietly, _both of us,_ and I'll give you my word he'll stand down."

"You're in no position to be giving orders_, princess_."

Ah. So it came to that. I stood with my back ram-rod straight, ignoring that in doing so, I was pressing my throat just that little bit more into the kunai I was being threatened with.

"You don't look like you can afford to lose anymore men. If you hurt me, he'll be angry, angry enough to kill off the rest of them even if it costs him his life. I don't want my servant to work himself to death trying to save me or avenge my honor or anything like that. We'll come quietly. He'll behave. I give you my word as Izanagi Ikite, of Rain."

I didn't know if he would take that. Wasn't sure. Kimimaro's eyes were…cold. So cold, there was something _feral_ about them, and I think the guy holding me could see it too, probably more clearly than I could, because they were directed at him. It was that more than any talking I did that convinced him to call off his men.

"Call him off."

I nodded curtly at 'Maro, asking him to forgive me my callous remarks with my eyes and watching cautiously for any signs of betrayal as he did what I asked. He was permitted to walk towards me, and he took me immediately from my-_ours_, now-captor's grip.

"Ikite…" He started, not needing to finish because, well, I knew him as well as he knew me at this point, and I knew what he meant. _Are you sure?_

I glanced carefully around us, feeling a little bolder standing next to him than I had away from him. The shinobi surrounding us were too numerous for him to take on…he was ill, I wouldn't let him. But still, they were wary. Frightened, even. They watched Kimimaro as though he were some rabid wolf, savagery incarnate held back only by my word. A devil, waiting. I looked dear 'Maro straight in the eye in answer.

_Yes._

We were gathered up like animals, bound and dragged along, herded along for Jashin knows how long. (My wrists, I fear, will never be the same). And 'Maro seemed to get worse and worse…He told me he would carry me, but of course I refused. Ninja or not, he wasn't going to lug about my weight when he was…no, I never finished that thought for fear of jinxing us.

I don't know how long we walked, only that at one point, Kimimaro stumbled, and I had to drag him up as if his life depended on it, because, well, it kind of _did_. It was wildly unusual for shinobi attempting to abduct a civilian target to take ninja prisoners…and we couldn't push our luck. I dragged him to his feet and pulled him with me, and when we finally reached a sort of cave like base (that's what it seemed like to me, at least), my lips were cracked and my eyes were bloodshot; I was nearly faint with exhaustion and Kimimaro wasn't faring much better.

"Where…we put…prisoners…"

"In…holding cell…together…"

"…sir."

We were roughly grabbed and tossed onto some filthy, frigid stone floor, in some lightless room, after a few more minutes of walking once we'd heard those tell-tale snippets of conversation. At least we were together, I repeated to myself, together, together, together, together, _together_. I didn't even have the energy to pick myself up off the floor, even to just lift my face off of the ground. So tired…

"Ikite, look at me."

The world shifted back into focus and I found myself violently shaking, clutching the soft, now dirty white fabric of Kimimaro's robes.

"Where are we, 'Maro?"

He looked grimly about us-his vision was probably a damn sight better than mine, even now-and quietly muttered an, "I don't know." He was looking pale, chalky, ashen, almost, and I was worried. I tentatively reached up to stroke his hair.

"How are you feeling," I asked him, equally quietly. He just looked somewhere above us, letting me do as I pleased with his hair, and instead of answering pulled me a little closer to him. It was cold. Damn cold. I was shaking, I don't know how he managed it, but he wasn't. I was dizzy and dying of thirst. Hungry, too, but what could be done?

Someone eventually brought us a tray with a pitcher of water and a piece of bread. We shared both, though I think Kimimaro managed to successfully foist the majority of our meager meal on me. He didn't want to eat, and he told me I could have all the water.

I fed him his half of the bread bit by bit and held the pitcher up to his lips so he could drink. And after that brief peek at light, artificial though it was, night everlasting came upon us and we lost track of the days. 'Maro grew worse as each day passed…he had over extended himself, and a wound I hadn't noticed he received trickled blood as the hours passed, regardless of my efforts to press and bandage it.

When three days of Kimimaro's estimate had passed, someone else came into the cell. It was not, however, to leave food.

"'Maro-'Maro_, help me!_"

I kicked and I swiped with vicious, thin fingers and screamed and shook and _struggled_ for all I was worth-there were hands around my waist and they were taking me from 'Maro.

In a flash of ruthless white, Kimimaro's ulna (that or his radius, one of his forearm bones, though I think since the radius is shorter it _must_ be the ulna) was pressed at my attackers eyelid, poised to be driven through his eye to what little brain the man possessed.

He didn't say anything, just stood there with a mad glint in his eye, a bead of sweat trickling down his forehead in a clear sign of his exhaustion. He was waiting.

"Let me go."

Faced with impending death, the man released me and, weak as I had become in our little prison stint, my knees buckled and I fell into Kimimaro's awaiting arms. He held his blade to the man's eye until he left, walking stiffly away and locking the door to our cell behind him.

"They can't take me away from you, 'Maro, they _can't_." I mumbled, half-choking on the words as I spoke them into Kimimaro's shoulder. His fingers pressed reassuringly into my shoulder.

"They won't."

If I were to calm myself even a little, I would have recognized the signs of hysteria.

"'Maro, don't let them take me, please! _Please_!"

"I won't let them, Ikite. I swear to you, I won't let them."

As if to prove it to me, give substance to his oath, he kept his bone blade as it was in his hand, not releasing it or even taking the time to finish growing it out of his arm; he kept it where it was, embedded deep into his palm, so he would be ready.

I spent that night crying my eyes out, something I hadn't done since _that day_, when Akarashi Tenzo died to save my life and paid for his kindness with his own. Kimimaro pulled me close, didn't say a word about the fact that I had somehow seated myself in his lap, and let me rest my head on his chest. It was so-_warm_-so _safe_, that I fell asleep almost instantly.

I might have passed out, then, instead of fallen asleep, because I didn't wake until hours later, and when I did, the first thing that came to my attention was the sense of _wrongness_ about the cell, a frigid, _strange_, seeping in my bones, an ice cold patch of now almost dry wet on the shoulder of my shirt. Cold. It was _cold_.

I shook the shadows from my mind, blinking as if to reacquaint myself with the darkness. It was _quiet_. Still. And I couldn't figure out what was _wrong_.

Our captors were gone, I suddenly realized. Perhaps they had left to report to their superiors, and left only a guard, or two, who would take turns watching the cave entrance. If that was true, it would explain the silence. There was no more noise of camaraderie from some distant place above us, no footsteps, no laughter, no echoes. One guard might sleep as the other watched. I could prove or disprove this theory by staying away and waiting to catch the unintelligible murmur of a brief exchange as they traded shifts.

It was likely I was right, because the only sound I could hear was that of my own rather shallow breathing. In, out, in, out. Like muted gasps of shock-the air was _cold_, after all.

It wasn't until I tried to sit up that I realized what was wrong.

The only sound I could hear was _my own shallow breathing_.

I tried to get up and found that I couldn't. I was trapped, and I realized with a shudder of revulsion, of utter _horror_, that I had woken up in the arms of a corpse. I panicked, pushing and clawing at the arms, trying to get them off me by any means necessary.

For a wild, agonizing moment, I panicked, not noticing the tears streaming down my face as I realized, for the first time, that the wet patch of my robe had been blood from Kimimaro's mouth and nose, and that the solid weight on my shoulder was his limp, cold _head_.

"Rigor mortis," I mumbled to myself as I struggled, fighting back waves of nausea, "rigor mortis sets in several hours after the time of death. It is caused by…"

The arm I had pushed successfully away from me curled back toward me in a slow, deliberate manner and I felt bile rise in my throat as I pushed it away again and worked furiously at the fingers of his free hand, trying desperately to uncurl them from my clothes.

"I-It is caused by…a c-coagu-coagulation of proteins…"

It was impossible. Every time I managed to dislodge a finger from my robe and moved onto another, the first would find its way back. With a nearly hysteric whimper, I tore the hand free of my person and shoved it away from me, ducking under the returning arm and scrambling away from the body. I huddled in the corner of the room, not sure whether I wanted to keep my back to it, or keep an eye on it.

"It…it usually goes away…after twenty-four hours…?"

Yes, that was it. Twenty-four hours. How long had he been like that? How long had I-

I couldn't take it anymore and threw up, stomach acid like venom in my mouth, burning, and I gagged and retched again, miserably, into the corner of the cell.

I wiped at my mouth when I was done, noting with a sort of self-loathing and disgust that I had become…_desensitized _to the…smell. Now that I was away from it, with my nostrils burning with the smell of the insubstantial contents of my empty stomach, I could smell it.

The smell of a body decomposing.

And just like that, I was a quivering, hysterical mess.

It had not even once prior to that moment occurred to me that I might not ever get out of this place alive. It had seemed a given, somehow, that (as Tobi still considered me of use) the Akatsuki would manage to find me. I'm such an _idiot_.

I had failed to learn the most important lesson of all. _Complacency is death_. Tobi had even been kind enough to even go so far as to remind me of that, and I'd _still_ forgotten.

I needed to think. I'd grown too confident in my scheming, and it was time to return to the basics. I vaguely recalled my kidnappers as wearing Grass village headbands. It was something I hadn't really thought to note at the time, but I'm glad that the image was stored away in my memory. I was probably, then, in Grass. Not in the village, because I hadn't seen any civilization. Probably not close to it, either, because if I was, then surely I'd have been moved to a different facility.

Thinking was doing a world of good for my mental state. I was calming down. Good. I need to be calm, be rational…

What's the motive? I don't think the "Hokage" has revealed _that particular piece_ of info yet. And in any case, how would they know when to strike? Tobi had agreed with me when I suggested that we keep the knowledge of my "abduction" hushed up…It made it seem less staged, and that was in our favor. So these Grass ninja _couldn't_ have known where we'd be unless they'd followed Gaara and I to Sand, and I don't exactly see Gaara being alright with that. But they would have _had_ to wait near Sand to find us where we were…

Unless…they followed Kimimaro? _But why?_

_I think I liked you a little better when you were panicking, girl._

I stumbled back, hitting my shoulder painfully against the wall, though having turned into the corner to lean against it should have deprived me of the space to. I knew that voice.

_Lord Jashin…?_

Laughter, dark, rich, and _cruel _rang throughout my mind. I shivered. For the first time, even after so long of an absence, I felt the _power_ behind that voice, that overwhelming _power_ that made me tremble down to my bones, that threatened to make my heart burst and my mind wither. The presence of a _god_.

When the laughter faded, there was nothingness, a void.

"Wait, please! Lord Jashin! Help me!" I cried, groping in the darkness for some sort of lifeline I might hold on to. I found none.

"Tell Hidan where I am, _please_!" I implored, glancing wildly about myself as if I'd somehow see him standing there. "_Please-"_

The voice was there again in my head, chuckling in a gratingly condescending manner.

_I've given you too many freebies already, __**dear**__. Tell you what, kill someone in my name, and I'll consider rewarding your devotion._

My head spun.

_Oh wait, you can't! _

He laughed. Laughed and laughed and laughed.

And then he was gone.

"_I am going to die here_."

I was trapped with no way out. No one to rescue me, no one to find me. And…there was also the very real possibility that Tobi had assumed I had betrayed him. If he did, I was probably better off staying where I was. Here, in this cold, wet, absolute cesspit of a 'cell,' with…with Kimimaro's corpse rotting behind me.

I couldn't stand it.

"Please, Jashin-sama! Have mercy on me, I beg you! _Please_, I-_I don't want to die like this_!"

Not this slow, insufferable torture. It was too much. They hadn't brought in any food since…since Kimimaro had frightened off that warden. There was water enough, filthy, nausea-inducing water that I could drink, but that was cruelty in an of itself. Dehydration, of course, would have killed me faster. I was _doomed_-I've always thought that was a stupid word, though now I understand it better than any other-to waste away until I died either of starvation or of the bacteria surely flourishing in the murky little pools of water here and there.

Or, I thought with a shudder, fighting not to glance behind me, until the body reached a point of decomposition that would further foul the disgusting room until I sickened and died with it. With him.

I sat there for _hours_, staring blankly into the darkness before me, knowing there was nothing there. It was as if I was the last person in the world, and I was going _mad_. Desperation, paranoia, sheer, mind-numbing _terror_-they were distant at first, but they became my closest companions. I clawed at the wall as if I could tear it down-succeeding, only, in tearing my fingernails and bloodying my hands. I huddled to myself and rocked back and forth, watching for any movement in the shadows. I felt as if I could hardly breathe, my eyes darted back and forth, and in the end, I lay down on my side and bit my thumb so viciously it bled. And it was as if I were suddenly awake again.

"Kill someone, he said. Kill someone. There's no one else here, no one. No one but…"

No one but _me_.

"That's it-" I breathed, eyes alight. "That's what he wanted all along-it was a _riddle_. A _test_. If I prove my resolve, no, my _devotion_, my _will_-I must be willing to turn my hand on myself to succeed. _That was it all along_."

But how? I had no weapons. I could hang myself, I considered, wringing my hands and clutching at my soiled robe and wondering how hard I'd have to work to tear it into strips. No, I couldn't. What would I hang myself from? I could tie it round my neck and tighten it until I couldn't breathe, but…

It was like someone had poured acid down my throat, burned my lungs and blackened them-and rid me of that suggestion forever. To die slowly-unable to breathe-that was a fear I could not overcome. Hanging myself, had it been possible, would have been simple, swift. A clean cracking of the neck.

I fought back a gag as I thought of how drastically I had changed, even in those weighty, lasting hours. Simple. Clean. I had never in my life thought of death that way, and now that I had, I thought to myself, and I never will again.

I was _desperate_. And perhaps a little crazy.

I glanced wildly about myself, eyes alight with some foreboding glint, and paused, suddenly, when the answer appeared before me, in form of a single line of white near invisible in the darkness. I had avoided looking in that direction like, _like the plague_, and here my silly little notion of discomfort flew out the window.

He bound himself to me even in death, swore to me the savagery of his line and the cruelty and ferocity of his blade. He called me, almost tenderly, a fool for binding myself to him in turn without knowing what the words I had spoken meant. Now, I understood. And without knowing whether I speaking to 'Maro or Jashin, I looked up into the blackness, feeling suddenly sane again, closed my eyes and said:

"_I accept those terms."_

Flood, Fire and Plague/End.


	16. Scroll 16

**Chapter 16: Blood as my Blood, Bone as my Bone**

"I'm so sorry, 'Maro, I'm so, _so_ sorry-"

I had my foot planted as steadily as I could on his wrist, and though my hands were shaking, they were wrapped as firmly as I could manage on the bone he had used to frighten away the guard. I was crying, sobbing and choking on my quietly muttered apologies.

"Forgive me."

I closed my eyes and in a vicious, sudden movement, I _pulled_.

I had known that the density of Kimimaro's bones was far superior to that of the average person's bones, and I knew that if I tried and failed, I would never manage to break it. So I pulled and kept my foot on the repulsively _soft_ wrist beneath it and there was a vicious snapping noise and I stumbled back. I fell to the ground in what was almost a skid, thrown violently on to my back.

But even as the breath was knocked out of my lungs, I felt tears of utter, overwhelming _gratitude_ spring to my eyes as I clasped my hands a little tighter on my dearly bought prize.

"_Thank you_."

I felt, then, as if 'Maro was with me-not just his body, but his _spirit_, lurking, mingling with my shadow, watching me. I clutched the bone to my chest-that precious, _precious_ thing, the key to our release. I had it in my hands, ready to be poised over my heart, held at my throat-anything. All I had to do was _do_ it.

But even in these last moments, I was logical. I didn't have the strength to push it into my chest-it's sharpness aside. So it would have to be the throat.

I eased the bone away from me, grasping it in both hands, and tremulously turned its wicked sharp point towards my throat. Tried to, at least. It was hard. Harder than I'd imagined it would be when I first made my decision.

I couldn't bring myself to bring it close enough to touch my skin.

The bone blade hovered over sensitive skin for a few moments-suspended by frozen will-and I realized, with a start, that my eyes were leaking.

I was crying.

"I…I can't do it." I mumbled to myself, blankly, in shock.

My resolve was dissolute. It had been strong enough, once, but it had become an inflated and false thing, made lax by the overindulgence of my pride. I _had_ become complacent. I had forgotten my _reason_.

There was nothing that in that moment could have been more _cruel_ than the knowledge that my salvation was _literally in my hands_ and I didn't have the strength of will to use it. It instilled me with a sense of self-loathing and disgust that could be equaled to what I had felt when ninjas had attacked the village I used to live in.

I lowered 'Maro's bone in a slow, careful movement, repulsed by the fact that as I did so, the trembling slowed. I hung my head, laying that beloved, _beloved_ treasure in my lap.

"I don't deserve you, 'Maro. _I don't deserve you, 'Maro, any more than I deserved __**him.**__"_

My mind was filled with thoughts of _him_, and at that moment, I didn't want to remember. What was my resolve? It was a flimsy, pathetic formation of ash, and in a sudden gust of air it was entirely gone. And perhaps my pride and will died with it.

The weight of the bone along my thighs was hefty, made all the more heavy by the weight of its significance. And as I stared, silently, frigidly despairing at the sharp point, I thought that no, my resolve had never been anything more than hollow. I had still been searching for the answer to my great question, and unlike Gaara, I hadn't found it yet.

It had not been my resolve that stopped me from breaking apart in my chair as Tobi threatened me. It had not been my _resolve_ that calmed me when Sasori decided to 'interrogate' me, that had made me straighten in my seat and ignore the kunai pressed to my thigh. It had not been my resolve that had ended the fight against the Grass ninja.

It had been my _will_.

Determined, I picked up the bone again. Sasori had threatened my life…by pressing a kunai to my _thigh_. Not to my throat, like _every other shinobi in the world_, but to my _thigh_. To my _femoral artery_. To sever it, of course, would be fatal.

I raised the bone high above my head, eyes alight again in some mad eureka. And then stopped, dropping them and picking myself off the floor in something near a frenzy and crawled to where 'Maro was. I ran my fingers gently over the cheek of his swollen, misshapen face.

I knelt at his side and raised the bone knife again.

_For the glory of Jashin._

And I brought it down with all my might, with the force of my _will_, which at this point was all I had left. I didn't give myself the time to hesitate, I just brought the blade down and pushed it into my skin until it hit something hard and there was a brief, brief moment of utter _agony_ and then I was moving backwards through the darkness, as if I were cutting through water, feeling nothing. I hit the ground with a soft thud and was vaguely aware of heat on my leg. It was a stark contrast to the sudden absence of warmth all over my body.

In some distant part of my mind, detached, like most thoughts seemed to be, I recognized the signs of shock. And I heard that maddening laughter once again.

_I didn't think you'd have the balls to do it, girl. After I had to __**influence**__ you to stab Hidan…to cut your palm when you made your oath…to have your little redheaded boy murder the plant man. To think, I gave you all those __**freebies**__ when you were capable of this all along._

I rolled over onto my side, tried to, at least, as if to block that voice from my head. It was bringing the pain back, making my nerves come screaming to life. How long could it possibly take to die?

_You missed, kid._

Laughter. More and more of it. _Make it stop_.

"J-Jashin…sama…"

There was a brief, blissful silence and then a snort.

_You're pathetic, __**Izanagi Ikite**__. I liked you better when you were a proud, haughty little thing, merciless and cunning, playing god and attempting to conquer fate. _

He didn't need to tell me that in that moment I was nothing of what I had been, nothing but a shadow stealing across the ground, fleeing the rising dawn.

_**You're**__ the dawn, girlie, you're just trying too hard to convince yourself you're the shadow. Remember what you've said. In your words, __**I accept those terms**__._

My head was spinning and the black was spreading, no, leaking into the contours of my vision. What had I said…? Had I spoken at all? I…couldn't remember.

A dark, echoing chuckle and then silence. The vague impression of Kimimaro's face in front of me, hardly visible, and then, as I reached to touch it, **blackness**.

"Your concerns are, as always, taken into careful consideration, however I can happily say that in this instance, they were unfounded." The Hokage (had tasted _terrible_, he thought to himself, too damn _altruistic_) said to Kakashi.

"The reason I ordered you to keep an eye on her was not because I suspected her of ill intention towards the Leaf. It was for her _protection_."

"Lord Third…?"

The Hokage folded his hands over his desk.

"Izanagi Ikite came to this village not as a spy or as an enemy, but as an _ally_. It was her coming that staved off the destruction of this village."

Kakashi looked at the old man before him, brow furrowed.

"Rain came across intelligence pointing to the attack?"

The Hokage's face morphed into an amused, knowing smile.

"Jashin-sama, please accept the sacrifice of this weak-ass heathen at my hands-"

A pale hand ran through bone white hair as a smirk grew on Hidan's eager face. His tongue slipped languorously from between hardly parted lips in a way that was almost sensual-until it was twisted into a true expression of blood lust.

"And forgive his fucking miserable existence on this earth."

He raised a long, narrow, deadly sharp rod and stabbed himself through the shoulder.

"Oh, _yeah_…that's the fucking stuff…"

He moaned as he slowly pulled it out, relishing the unbearable tearing feeling both he and his victim could feel, reveling in the _screams_. No, he wasn't going to end it yet. He was having too much fucking _fun_ for that shit. The rod was slammed with vicious, inhuman force _straight through _his kneecap. The pain was excruciating…pure _agony_…and he loved every moment of it. He'd draw this death out as long as he could…

_Hidan._

The rod stopped poised over his chest.

"Make sure it is sent _immediately_."

Kabuto nodded subserviently.

"Yes, Lord Orochimaru."

The pallid sannin hummed a note to himself, looking at his hands in satisfaction. _The student had indeed surpassed the master_. He had killed the Third Hokage with those very hands, and though the world couldn't know about it quite yet, they soon would. As much as he was loathe to deal with the Akatsuki-their transaction had been quite _profitable_.

"Sasuke." He called, watching a snake entwine itself along his wrist happily, resting more comfortably in his chair than he would have had he turned the Ikite girl away.

A pale, dark-haired boy strolled silently into the room, black eyes trained on his "mentor" in almost unsure disdain. He had seen nothing yet to condemn his teacher…but he had seen nothing to commend him either. He wondered, for a brief moment, as the seed of doubt planted within him at an earlier time threatened to sprout, if he had done the right thing. Was this truly the path he must take? Was this the way to at last avenge his clan?

His eyes hardened and he stood a little straighter. There would be no doubt, no hesitation. From this point on, he would focus only on the future, the only future that mattered. The one in which Itachi lay dead at his feet, and his honored mother and father and all his clan at last could rest in peace.

"I invited a friend of mine to visit, Sasuke-kun."

The man before him didn't seem like the type to waste time mincing words or making pleasant conversation, so Sasuke waited.

"I expect you to be considerably more…_courteous_ to her than you've made a habit of being with your…_roommates_. In fact, I might prefer it if you _didn't see her at all_."

Sasuke nodded, turning to leave, and snake-like eyes, smug, victorious, watched him go. To find that everything that girl had told him was true…to see their plan come to fruition in such a seamless, unspoiled way…_It pleased him._

It was deadly silent as Gaara stepped out onto the balcony to address his people for the first time. Deathly silent-and the air was rife with _terror_. No one moved. It was as if the entire country, even the land itself, had stopped breathing.

If he were Ikite, he asked himself as the council members stood and took their places in a "show of support" around him, what would he do? He had never heard her address her people, of course, but she had addressed _him_, and he had been about as receptive an audience as the people before him. Which is to say, he'd wished her dead (albeit by his hand) as much as the people before him wished he had never existed, never been forced upon them like this.

Where would **she** have begun?

"_Gaara, dearest…__**Who am I**__?" She had asked him patiently._

"_Ikite." He had answered, almost in a growl, clutching her a little tighter to him because he didn't want her to leave._

"_Yes, Gaara. I'm Ikite. __**Izanagi**__ Ikite. I had a different name once, but…that name does not exist in this world. I am Izanagi Ikite, and I am the princess of Rain."_

He knew who she was. But perhaps he hadn't understood the importance of her name. To be Ikite with him was to be his. He did not know what being Izanagi Ikite meant to her, and didn't know who the different name was, but he understood what she had meant when she told him she was also Izanagi Ikite, the princess of Rain.

"I…am Gaara," he began, stepping forward, stating the truth he had lived by all his life.

"I am Gaara, of the Desert. Gaara, of the Sand. I am a demon. A monster. A weapon. I am all of these things. And now, I am the Kazekage as well."

He paused for a moment, struggling with the words he wanted to say. They would wait, he knew. They were too afraid not to. But he dreamed, dreamed of a day when they would wait because they _wanted_ to, because what he had to say was _worth hearing_.

"There is a person very precious to me," he began, feeling his hands move upwards in a gesture of openness, "who accepted me, as I was. As I am. It is my wish that one day, all of you will do the same. You, the people I have wronged, are precious to me. You weren't, once, and I have no right to ask you to forgive me for that. But you are, now."

He paused for a moment, taking in from afar the ugly expressions of his people.

"I do not ask you to forget. I do not ask you to forgive. I only ask that you understand…that the man I was is not the man who is now Kazekage. I will protect this village with my life. I will cherish it, raise it up if I can, and one day, if you, the people of the Sand, find it in your heart to accept me, _then I will lead_."

The people were silent. Gaara was silent. And then, without any form of conclusion whatsoever, Gaara turned on his heel and walked calmly off the stage. The whole _world_, in that moment, was silent, save for the quiet sound of Gaara's sandals hitting the floor, then the stairs, then the ground and then fading. Only when he was gone did the breath that an entire nation seemed to have been holding was released, and people looked at one another in fear, uncertainty. Change was coming.

I woke, absurdly as it might sound, as if I were a ninja, suddenly alert, awake, alive-and with a horrid feeling in my stomach. I was dizzy, perhaps not in my right mind, but I felt a thrumming in my bones, shrieking _danger, danger! _to my blood.

And immediately, there was a hand on my shoulder, dragging my sorry carcass up, another snaking under my knees, lifting me completely off the ground. I shrieked. I shrieked as though I were being burned alive, or something equally unbearable.

And as I tossed my head back in unadulterated agony, I caught sight of a single scarlet eye, blazing in the darkness. Then, we were moving. My head spun, and for a moment, unable to recognize the man that carried me, I realized one thing, and every cell in me _screamed_.

"Let go of me!" I growled, flailing about as if I couldn't feel pain, couldn't feel flesh being torn from the bone I hadn't thought to remove, couldn't feel fresh blood drawn from the wound at my own foolish insistence.

"_I will not let you take me away from him._"

I couldn't. I _wouldn't_. I wouldn't be taken from Kimimaro. No, I couldn't be, after everything. Not when I finally understood, finally _realized_ what it was that he had given me.

"_Ikite, stop_."

"'Maro! _'Maro_!" She screeched, clawing at the arms that held her. So vicious was one of her attacks-and perhaps he was that unwilling to hurt her-that when she tore his mask off his face by accident, nearly catching his eye with her ragged nail, that he dropped her, and she shrieked like some unholy thing in pain and scrambled away from him, throwing herself over the corpse in the corner of the room.

Blood loss, he realized. It was the blood loss that made her delirious. The stress of capture, the death of the boy. And fear. _Yes_, _she was afraid. _

Stooping to pick up his mask, he looked a little coldly on the hysteric woman, sobbing and clutching at was what very clearly a body that had been dead for over a day. Holding, shaking, shouting, "'Maro, you said you wouldn't let them take me! You promised!"

He watched her for a moment and then she was back in his arms, kicking, screaming, and he turned towards the body very calmly, ignoring her pathetic attempts at hurting him, and let his sharingan blaze to life.

There was a distortion of space and sound, like a swirling vortex of darkness, and the body was gone. Ikite screeched and cried and fought and sobbed and he ignored it all and a moment later, they too were swallowed from existence.

"Who did this?" A blank voice asked, gazing at the pale, wan figure on the bed.

Sharp teeth mocked him as the corners of his partner's lips were pulled back in a smile.

"Careful now, Itachi. It almost sounds like you care."

A beat of silence and then, quietly but just as briskly, as coldly, in a tone all business:

"Who was it?"

Kisame shrugged, watching the unfeeling man out of the corner of his eye when he answered, tossing a kunai knife up into the air, catching it, throwing it again…

"No idea. The place was abandoned when we got there. No sign of anyone. Or so I was told."

Itachi shifted on one foot, slowly turning towards Kisame, face empty of anything that could be classed as emotion.

"And there was no sign of the captors? None at all?"

He received a grin and a piece of paper in response.

I was in darkness for a long time. And when I awoke, I felt changed. The pain in my leg was terrible. Not in the agonizing, all-consuming sort of way, but in the Jashin-that's-awful sort of way, you know, the pain you feel after excruciating pain? The pain that tells you you're fine, you're going to live. You're on the mend.

That was I awoke to, that and darkness. But I didn't like the darkness, so I put forth an extra effort and opened my eyes. Light flooded my world, and I cringed away from it.

It hurt. My neck was sore. Stiff. Like I had been lying there for an eternity.

"Am I dead…?"

_You missed, kid._

No, I wasn't. I had missed. So then…where was I? There was nothing in the room to tell me that I was with "friends," though the fact that I was on a bed pointed to the fact that I wasn't with "enemies." And what was that awfully uncomfortable-

The door opened, and a woman I didn't know came in. When she saw me staring at her, she jumped, nearly dropping the tray she was carrying in surprise.

"I-Izanagi-hime, you've awakened!"

I didn't say anything. Was I back? Was I home? I held my breath in both fear and delight.

"Lady Angel ordered that a messenger be sent to the Administrative building immediately to notify Lord Pein of your awakening. You're back in Rain, hime. You're home."

The words _back in Rain_ hit my ears like the sweetest of sounds and I slept.

Blood as my Blood, Bone as my Bone/End.


	17. Scroll 17

**Chapter 17: Out of Character**

The entire week I was in the hospital, kept subdued by pain medications I'm now sure I didn't need, I slept. Medical ninja had, of course, given my care utmost attention-so for me to have been trapped there for a week was ridiculous. I could walk on my own, though I was very rarely permitted to. The pain medicines I was given intravenously gave me nightmares, clouded my mind and robbed me of sense. It wasn't until I was released that it hit me.

Kimimaro was dead. More importantly, he was _still_ dead. Because if he wasn't, he would be with me. Which he wasn't.

"Princess! You've returned!" Exclaimed a guard standing outside the doors of the Administrative Building that served, essentially, as Lord Pein's palace. Mine too, I might have thought, had I not been too busy nodding and smiling an acknowledgement, as was expected.

Many, many people came to greet me. And I had to smile and wave, had to be charming, had to be gracious, and grateful, even though I was dying inside, even though all I wanted was to hunt Tobi down and find out what the hell he had done with 'Maro.

I was updated on the status of the investigation, I was asked a thousand questions, and I excused myself by politely stating my need for rest just as often.

Then I was in my room.

My legs were so weak, I all but collapsed on the bed when my escort left. I had been lying still so long, I had lost a lot of muscle mass. But that, at that point in time, it didn't matter. Only one thing mattered, and it was more important to me even than sleep.

"Tobi."

It actually took me by surprise when he appeared, not suddenly before me, but as a pair of hands slowly slinking into my peripheral vision, wrapping around my shoulders and dragging me back from the very edge of the bed.

"You should be resting, Ikite." He admonished silkily, and I recognized in his tone that he knew what I wanted, and was waiting for me to beg for it.

"Where's Kimimaro?" I asked, as brusquely as I could manage.

He forced me to turn to look at him, keeping an arm around me as the other grabbed my chin, tilting me face up towards his mask.

I forgot to breathe.

And then, just like that, he let me go, and I immediately averted my eyes.

"Where is 'Maro?" I asked again, quietly now, in a murmur. Complacency is the devil, I thought, complacency is the devil. Cautious. Be cautious. Don't upset him.

Don't anger him.

"Do you remember anything?" He persisted, ignoring me.

Yes, I wanted to say. Of course I did. How do you forget trying to kill yourself? How do you forget waking up in the arms of a corpse? How do you forget the darkness, the coldness?

It's easy, really. You _don't_.

But I held my tongue, because something in his tone told me that he _knew_ I had forgotten. What I had forgotten, obviously, I didn't know, but _he _did, and he was dangling it over my head. Bastard.

"Where is my servant?" I asked, _again_, my tone as cold as ice.

He didn't like my closeness with 'Maro. Fine. I'd appease him. But I wouldn't play that game. I didn't know what or even if I'd forgotten, but I wasn't going to let him distract me.

"You servant…" He repeated, at last letting his arm drop from my shoulders.

"Don't you have questions, Ikite? Don't you want to know _why_?"

I paused for a moment, suddenly acutely aware of my heart beating in my chest. Why? Why had I been taken? How had I been found, if I'd missed. No, Jashin…he accepted my sacrifice. He said so. Hadn't he? He said-

_I accept those terms._

And thinking about it, about that dark, mad voice parroting my own words back to me, I got a hold of myself and raised my chin almost defiantly.

"I want Kimimaro."

As much as I wanted to sound pure business, I sounded like a child. Pleading. So I added the word that I was lacking, hoping it might have some effect.

"Please."

My voice cracked on the word, and I looked away as furious tears began to flood my eyes. He watched me, without speaking, and only god knows what was going through that mind of his, and I wondered, briefly, if perhaps I had been saved on accident, if he was the one behind it all, and if he had come to finish the job.

It wasn't implausible, and I watched him as cautiously as he watched me, though his face was hidden and mine was bare, his eye an eerie red surrounded by black, both of mine distorted behind pooling beads of tears.

And then he tested me again, as if I hadn't proven myself time and time again: He held his hand out to me, rigidly, unfeelingly, solely to see if I would take it.

I did.

We were transported away to a very dimly lit room. The air was chilly on my face, and before me was a sterile steel table, with a white sheet covering a mass atop it. Swallowing, I realized what it was.

Tobi had moved from my side, and I hadn't noticed it until I felt his breath on my ear.

"There." He murmured, making me shiver as I realized what, precisely, he had abandoned. "There is your servant, Ikite. You wanted him. There he is."

I didn't dare turn my head. _He had taken off his mask_.

His hands came to rest just above my hips, and he gave me a little nudge forward, as if sensing the utter terror that set my heart pounding and delighting in the opportunity to further torment me. I trembled, then I shook. And I wanted to step back, step away, because all I could think of was hours in the dark, the sound of dripping water, no food, no light, no 'Maro.

The body in the corner of the room.

_Ikite,_ the sheet seemed to whisper. _Come._

I couldn't move. Tobi laughed. In his laughter, there was another, darker echo of sound. One I instantly recognized. The god I served. And another voice, faint, but so very real.

"_Bring me back to you, Ikite. When I die, bring me back."_

I didn't know that I had moved until the sheet I had torn off the body had settled, with all the eloquence of dust, on the floor.

That…that _thing_ before me was not 'Maro. It was some strange and foreign mass of rotting flesh and bone, misshapen, grotesque, and I felt sick looking at it. It was one thing, to see it as a shape in the blackness of the prison, another entirely to see it in the unfeelingly bright light of the morgue. How long had he lain on the floor, untouched, in the dark? How long had I left him so, that his face had taken such a sickening shape? How long had it taken for him to turn that strange shade of graying white, then pass to a greenish puce, and then to a faint, starved purple? How long had the blood had to crust along his mouth, so that it came off in flakes as it was stirred by the breeze created by the sheet?

I was going to be sick.

"Will you turn away?" Tobi demanded, his voice deceptively silky, smooth like running water.

His lips just grazed my ear, and my blood hardened to stone in my veins.

"I will not," I answered, unable to blink, unable to breathe, keeping my eyes on the disgusting image of a piece of shattered bone protruding from…the thing before me.

We stood like that for what seemed an age, and at last he stepped back from me, and replaced his mask. He walked into my line of peripheral vision then, and I suddenly felt afraid. There was a sense of complete nothingness emanating him. He was not angry. He was not pleased. And that was more frightening than anything else.

We left. An hour later, I was back, with a White Zetsu and Kisame, who had agreed to provide extra chakra if necessary.

"Hey, kid." He greeted me in his signature sort of cheerfulness.

I returned the gesture with a slight smile and a murmured hello. Tobi wasn't there.

To be honest, I don't really remember much about the jutsu. Everything had become so…so jumbled in my mind, and my head was pounding. If, at the time, I had been able to think, really _think,_ I might have pieced together what was happening sooner.

But I couldn't think, so I didn't.

It seemed to go on for an eternity. I stood so long my knees started to shake, and…and every time I closed my eyes, I saw blackness. It was nauseating. Sleep. That's what I needed.

Right when I thought that I would pass out, the hand I hadn't realized I was holding clenched tightly around my own, and Kimimaro, covered in blood and dirt and all sorts of unspeakable things, but as he had been in life, returned to me with a great shuddering breath.

His eyes snapped open and his fingernails pressed into my skin so fiercely that they drew blood. Tears sprang to my eyes, not tears of pain, but tears of joy.

He took several, desperate breaths, looking wildly about himself as if he couldn't see us, any of us, and drunkenly scrambled to his feet.

"'Maro," I called softly, so that only he might hear, "you've come back to me."

He at last tore his gaze from the body on the floor that had given its life for his own, and his pale-colored eyes came to rest on my dark ones, searching, terrified for a moment, before he closed them and dropped to his knees before me.

"Ikite. Ikite, Ikite, _Ikite_," he breathed, in a barely audible, hushed tone of wonder, of worship.

He gently brushed his fingers along the nail marks he had left on my hand, turned it over, and carefully, so very carefully, kissed the quickening pulse in my wrist.

I nearly drew back in surprise, too terrified to look behind me to see if Kisame was watching. But I stayed, and when he opened his eyes I saw a strange light to them, one that struck me as cold and distant, as the shadow fleeing the dawn. And yet, there was admiration too, in those eyes, and thanks beyond what words could express.

Almost intuitively, he reached for my leg, and with bated breath touched a thumb to where the silk of my robe his the wound that had bought our freedom.

"They couldn't take it out." He said, perhaps more to himself than to me, though it was not so much a statement as it was a question. I looked at him as if he were a stranger, and wondered what it had been like for him, those hours in the dark.

"Couldn't take what out?" I repeated, a little unstably, putting a hand on his shoulder to steady myself with. His hand dropped from my robe, and his face took a far away expression.

"You broke it. You must have been so afraid. You slammed the blade down on your femur with all your strength, and you fractured it. You must have fainted from pain. It was still in you when they found you. They wouldn't have removed it for fear of you losing too much blood. So when they did…it would have already started to meld to your skeleton."

His expression was so frighteningly blank as he explained, I wanted to step away.

"They would have had to break it out, and no matter what they did, they couldn't pull out the fragment that stayed behind."

I listened with as passive an expression as I could manage. Kimimaro turned to face me better, and the look that stole across his face was one of quiet contentedness.

"Blood of my blood," he murmured, pressing their palms together for a brief moment, "and bone of my bone."

The oath. It all came back to-

"You're exhausted, Ikite."

His fingers brushed gently against my forehead and I knew no more.

Everything after that was a blur until I woke up safe and warm in my bed, jolting awake and hurriedly, silently checking to make sure that it hadn't all been a dream. When I saw Kimimaro breathing softly next to me, where he must have fallen asleep, I let out a relieved sigh. And then, while I would have died if his resurrection turned out to be a dream, I wished that it hadn't ever been necessary, that it all had been a nightmare.

The next day, Kimimaro had seemingly returned to his normal self.

Three days later, I met with Pein for the first time since before I left for the Leaf Village and was informed that Itachi had gone missing.

"When?" I asked, my tone brisk to hide my confusion. He had visited me at the hospital. I could have _sworn_ he had visited me at the hospital. Of course, I hardly remembered anything about the hospital, but…I could almost hear his voice in my head thinking about it. It was distant, quiet, and strangely distorted by some unfamiliar tone, but it was his.

I never received an answer.

A week after Kimimaro returned, word came from the Leaf Village. Tobi did not care to share the contents of the missive with me, and it was not spoken of again.

I grew thin. Pale. Afraid. When I closed my eyes, I saw the dungeon. When I tried to sleep, I finished up laying awake, staring into the darkness, and I swore I could hear that same, maddening dripping of water. And Tobi stopped telling me things. That, I think, was worse than anything else.

It wasn't until three weeks later, when Kimimaro moved to wake me once morning and I all but attacked him, that I finally realized what was wrong.

"Jashin, I'm so stupid. How could I have not _realized_…"

Kimimaro watched as I began to pace about the room.

"PTSD, how could I have missed it?" I cried, resisting the urge to crush my fist against the wall. Apparently deciding there was no need to call for a medic (which he had suggested a few times in his concern over the last several days), he tilted his head to the side.

"What is _PTSD_?" He asked, voice neutral, but a hint of curiosity apparent on his face.

I made a strange spinning motion with my hand in my excitement.

"It's-You don't have it here, I don't think. Well, you _do_, but as far as I know you don't even have psychologists here to diagnose it."

"Psy…chologist?" He repeated slowly, testing the word out on his tongue.

I nodded, suddenly feeling a bit vulnerable.

"It's…it's a doctor of the mind. PTSD is short for _post-traumatic stress disorder_. It's a sort of…condition that is the result of traumatic experience. It's why I've been having flashbacks. I didn't…with everything that's happened, I suppose I just kind of…forgot that I'm just a civilian, that I'm…more likely to be affected by…what happened…"

I trailed off a little uncomfortably.

"Were you one of these mind doctors in…your world?" He asked, moving a little closer to me, perhaps hesitantly. It didn't surprise me, because I had never spoken of my past before my entry to this world before. But…

"Yes. Yes, I was. Well, I was studying to become one. I graduated early, you see. From high school. I took advanced classes and studied during summer terms too, every other year. I was going to get my doctorate at the age of 22. My mom…she was so proud."

I let loose a little laugh that came out as more of a sniffle.

"Well, all the official stuff is useless to me here. I'm twenty one now, been out of high school for four years, and my degree doesn't exist in this world."

I shrugged.

"None of that matters anymore. What I learned…I can _use_ that here, perhaps use it better than I could have back there because people here don't study it. It's how I'm so good at persuading people, you know. I can…understand people, to a certain extent. Guess their reactions. Know what buttons to push, how to capture interest. It's not magic, it's science. It's…"

I flashed him a weak smile.

"It's all I have, so I milk it for what it's worth."

"You have me." He stated blankly, assertively, as he took a fluid step beside me and helped me to stand so that he could drape my morning robe about my shoulders. House coat, I called it. Or would have, back home.

"I do. And I am so, _so_ thankful for that, darling 'Maro."

My breakfast was brought up to me after that, and 'Maro and I ate in silence. I wondered if he had more questions for me, though he didn't ask them if he did, perhaps because he knew that I didn't want to talk about my old world.

Even after the nearly year and a half I had spent here, the wound was too raw. In any case, I thought it weakened me, to even _think_ of that girl, when I was not her. Izanagi Ikite does not have the liberty to be the university student that lived in a little world of her own, filled with song and books and sprinkles. Izanagi Ikite was a lean, hardened mind, who had no time for such things.

"'Maro?" I asked, as he poured me some tea and I thought a little wistfully of tea back home, with milk and sugar and biscuits and fry.

"Yes?"

I turned my head towards the window and those thoughts were gone.

"Forget all I told you today." I ordered, my voice a little cold.

"Yes…Ikite."

I spent the next few days attempting to talk myself through a makeshift session of therapy. PTSD had been, I supposed, a long time coming. I had likely been too busy to bother about what I had seen, and being kidnapped proved to be the straw that broke the proverbial camel's back. So I eased myself out of it, hardened myself to it, rationalized my experiences until I began to consider kidnapping _normal_…

And I planned. Being kept so deliberately in the dark by Tobi meant I was only a step from having outlived my usefulness. So I schemed and I plotted until, at last, I was ready.

The doors swung open like the clap of thunder (thanks to Kimimaro and his ninja strength), and I strolled in as if I had been invited to Pein's office.

He greeted me expressionlessly, and I returned the favor. I called Tobi and we waited.

"What a pleasant surprise to see you, Ikite." He drawled rather lazily upon entering the room. "I had thought you to still be…recovering."

I dipped my head in his direction in polite acknowledgement but stared very evenly at the man in the mask as I responded: "I'm finished playing patient, Tobi. We have work to do."

I could all but _feel_ approval radiating from him then, and it thrilled me to the core.

"Both of you, leave us. My lady and I have much to discuss."

Out of Character/End.


	18. Scroll 18

**Chapter 18: The Soul of a Genius**

"No. I refuse to believe that, Tobi. Itachi has _not_ betrayed us."

"You believe what he wants you to believe." He countered, lounging on Pein's desk, his eye settled directly on mine through the hole in his mask.

I bristled.

"You ninja may think you are all masters of manipulation, and I suppose, to an extent, you _are, _but do you really think that man could hide the intention to leave the Akatsuki from _me_ of all people? I _know_ him, Tobi. Like I know Gaara and perhaps even 'Maro."

"You're confident. Is there, perhaps, more to your assertion than you're telling me?"

"I know what you're implying, Tobi, and I thought we had been over that. Itachi and I talk. A lot. I would even go so far as to say we're _friends_. But that's all."

He shrugged.

"Can you blame me for wanting my advisor to remain _impartial _tomy subordinates?"

I glared.

"I _know_ that man. He'll come back, whenever he's achieved what he's set out to do. And I promise you, whatever it is, he'll succeed, and you'll be sorry you even considered _killing him_."

He looked at me for a long while before apparently deciding to change the subject and sliding a scroll over to me.

"This came for you by courier while you were away."

Perhaps it was from Gaara, I wondered, my heart skipping a beat in my chest. I missed that child, missed him a lot, and I was anxious to know what had happened after I left.

It was not from him, but rather, from someone I absolutely did not expect.

"Orochimaru is inviting me to have tea with him? _Tea_?" I demanded, not quite able to shut my mouth in shock. Tobi nodded.

"Obviously. You left a greater impression than you realized or even meant to."

I nodded as if I had ever considered the impression I wanted to leave and skimmed through the rest of the letter. And then I chuckled a little to myself.

"He's offered to teach me kanji."

I didn't mean to tell Tobi, like I was chatting with a friend or something, I simply couldn't keep the thought in my head and said it aloud. I glanced up at him a little fearfully when I realized what I had done. He didn't move for a moment before shrugging.

"It's not a bad idea. From what you've told me, you can read any text that isn't visually depicted in the novel you say records this world's tale. Don't wait until you're inconvenienced by what you _can't _read. Have someone teach you. It doesn't have to be him."

I was surprised by the civility and rationality of his response. It was true, though. I could read books here, understand what people were saying. Things like the Memorial Stone in Leaf, though, I could not read. I figured it was because even in the English translation of the manga, it was written in Japanese. Same as I could technically open up a copy of Make Out Paradise and read the words inside, though I couldn't read the cover.

"I suppose it's not," I answered unsurely, not knowing what else to say.

We stood in silence for a moment before I composed myself and asked, "And what of my…_abilities_, Tobi? Have they been 'revealed' yet?"

It was one of the very first things we had established: my cover. Well, we certainly weren't going to let all the five shinobi countries and every other little land in between know that I was from another world. _That_ was dangerous, for obvious reasons. I mean, that was practically advertising the fact that Rain was changing the future for its own benefit, you know? No. It wasn't wise at all, but we needed to explain my knowledge _somehow_.

It was thus that we decided that, to those who could not be told the truth, but needed some sort of explanation, we would reveal the 'truth' that I was a prophet of the future. Not that there are any other types of prophets, I mean really.

I could all but feel Tobi smirk beneath the mask.

"Oh yes. Everyone knows how Izanagi Ikite of Rain saw Orochimaru's plans in a dream and saved the Hokage. They name you a hero in the Leaf, the princess of _benevolence_-"

I couldn't help but laugh, though when I did I choked it down as rapidly as possible. Tobi's eye was on me for a moment then, staring in a way that was calculating, before turning on his heel and leaving. I watched him go with a funny feeling in my stomach.

And I didn't see him after that for a week.

"_Ikite…" Kimimaro began, his expression utterly blank, "Ikite-sama, tomorrow…tomorrow will you go to the training grounds? There is something there for you to see."_

I had nodded perhaps a little confusedly but happily agreed nonetheless. That was last night. I begged him to never call address me with -sama again, and he smiled a little, a very little, and thanked me. So, here I stood, well, sat, under one of my _many_ parasols, wondering what on earth my 'Maro wanted me to see.

He's not the type to show off at all, so there must be some sort of reason behind it.

The first thing that struck me was the number of people gathered. I mean, a whole _crowd_ was lined up on the far end of the grounds, a_ huge_ crowd, and when they saw me sitting there, a great cheer rose up among them, until they were all applauding what I presumed was my safe return. I waved at all of them, as much as I could, before deciding to set the example and sit calmly. Eventually, and I mean, _eventually_, the crowd, no doubt excited over the prospect of whatever would be happening here, took the hint and quieted.

We waited, my people and I, waited in what became quite suddenly total silence.

"Ikite-chan! Tobi has not seen you for a long time!" Came the sudden, childish whine of an all-too familiar voice from behind me, making me leap nearly a foot into the air in fright.

I composed myself quickly before turning around and was surprised to see Pein and Konan descending the steps behind me. The crowd screamed then, in brilliant adoration, and I inclined my head with a soft smile on my face.

"Lord Pein. Lady Konan."

Pein acknowledged me with a nod of his head, though Konan, who I had not seen since my return, smiled back at me as much as I'd ever seen her smile, though I noticed her eyes, but for a brief glimmer of genuine sentiment, were blank.

I thus concluded that something Akatsuki related was going to happen, and moved a little closer to the edge of my seat. Kimimaro was nowhere, yet, to be seen.

"Bring him."

I glanced up at Pein in sudden anxiety. Surely he was not speaking of 'Maro, was he? Beside me, bouncing happily on his seat, Tobi giggled.

There was hushed silence and then three men entered the field.

Kisame on the left, expressionless, not grinning, for once, and Deidara on the right, grinning as though trying to make up for Kisame who wasn't, looking so sadistically gleeful that I was sure that the mouths on his hands were copying the expression too.

And in the middle…

"The traitor, Uchiha Itachi."

Everything stopped for me for a moment, and I felt my hands ball into fists in a desperate attempt to keep them from flying up to cover my mouth as I kept it shut in an effort not to audibly gasp.

Small consolation though it was, I noticed that he was standing straight, tall, and that his expression was as blank as ever. I nearly panicked again when I realized his cloak was so heavily stained with blood, I could see it from where I sat. But I sat still, without moving, and the only thing that belied my sudden fear was a quiet, sharp intake of breath.

Tobi giggled a little higher this time, but he betrayed himself too, and I saw his fingers threatening to snap the arms of his chair, they dug into the polished wood so terribly.

The crowd was hissing and booing, falling suddenly silent when Konan stood to announce the charges against him.

Though I was the leader of a shinobi village, I was little acquainted with the specifics of shinobi law. I mean, reading _Naruto_ had given me a vague idea of how things worked (and I mean _vague_), and actually being involved with shinobi gave me a better one. It wasn't until that moment that I understood, completely and totally, how brutal shinobi law was.

"The accused stands before you now as a rogue ninja…"

Yes, by law he was. A day of absence was excusable, if only in the sense that the shinobi absent was given the benefit of the doubt of leaving the village. Punishment for abandoning one's post for an hour was severe enough, but to be absent for a day did not call for _trial_. According to the laws of Rain, three days of absence was punishable. Seven days of absence was punishable by death. Any ninja absent from his post for more than seven days is considered rogue and an enemy of the village. And Itachi was actually an S-rank criminal…

Konan asked the question asked at every "trial" and before I knew it, I was standing up.

"He stands alone, without support. Will anyone stand for him?"

The traditional answer to this question was hissing and booing and general disgust, but, of course, I just had to be that one _idiot_ and-

"I will stand for him."

Silence fell. And when I say silence, I mean _silence_. Everyone quieted down at once, and I could _feel_ the anger rolling off of Tobi in waves. Oh, I was in for it. In fact, I was surprised that he hadn't leapt up and slit my throat _already_. But what could anyone do? I had made my announcement, and I was the fucking Princess of Rain. If _anyone_ could actually stand for an accused deserter, it should be me, right?"

"I will stand for Uchiha Itachi before the people of Rain."

Konan pretended not to be pissed, although I had the distinct feeling that she was, and Pein was practically made of stone. Tobi started asking all sorts of childish questions-and beneath that cheery tone I could _feel_ broiling rage.

I had put our operation at risk. It was stupid of me, after all, my life wasn't solely mine to throw away any more, and if the accused is found guilty, those who stand for him share his sentence. But…I _knew_ this man, I _knew_ him, I had spent so much time talking to him, meeting for tea in the afternoons when he was free when he was here, so many times after that evening in which I told him the truth. I knew him, and I knew he wouldn't have left.

Itachi walked calmly forward, not looking to me, and I prayed and prayed and prayed that he really _hadn't _deserted. Konan asked him something, but my heart was thudding so loudly in my chest I swear I couldn't hear anything over it.

In response he methodically lifted his thumb to his mouth, bit it so that it drew blood, and with sudden, violent, _angry_ force, slammed it into the ground.

There was a huge puff of smoke and someone screamed. I craned my neck to see what it was as the smoke cleared, and when I was at last able to process what it was I was seeing, I clapped a hand over my mouth in horror.

There, on the ground before all the people of Rain, their Lord, their Lady Angel, and me, was a mountain of _heads_. Severed heads, their expressions twisted into strange masks of terror and hatred, their faces frozen the way they had been when they breathed their last.

"This is my defense."

There were murmurs in the crowd, the crying of a child, and then an expectant hush. Ah yes, in shinobi "courts," if you could call them that, the sentence is delivered immediately.

"So it _was_ you," Tobi murmured in his true voice beside me, an undercurrent of satisfaction audible there, beneath some displeasure. Then:

"Leader-sama, Leader-sama! Why does Itachi have a lot of heads?"

Pein nodded to Konan, and I felt strange for a moment, seeing how easily they communicated between themselves. Tobi phrased his orders as an irritating question, which Pein understood as instruction to have Konan _ask_ the questions as part of the trial. Pein nodded, which Konan understood as the go-ahead…

Communication in their chain-of-command was perfect, and it was a reminder of how out-of-the-loop I had always been kept.

I missed Konan asking Itachi whatever it was she asked him, but I presumed it was a more formally worded version of Tobi's question.

For the first time, the raven-haired ninja's eyes met mine, briefly, but it seemed meant to reassure me, though it did little in terms of my overwhelming anxiety.

"These are the shinobi of Grass." Itachi began, motioning mechanically to the pile with a slight inclination of his head and a hardly noticeable flick of his wrist.

His tone was quiet, deceptively calm and sent a shiver of unease down my spine.

"They have been brought to receive judgment."

Whispers among the crowd. Konan voiced the thought we all were thinking.

"They're _dead_."

Itachi didn't flinch at the caustic, perhaps a little scared tone in Konan's voice.

"They resisted."

Utter silence. He went on.

"These are the men directly responsible for the abduction of the princess. They were offered the opportunity to speak their own defense before the people of Rain if they came peaceably."

His expression darkened so suddenly, so solemnly, that I could see it from where I sat.

"They did not. So the defense of Grass is their silence."

Murmurs, like a plague of wasps spread through the crowd, and the once excited people became restless, and angry in a minute. Tobi was jumping up and down now, gleefully squealing, and came to grab me in a tight hug, pulling me out of my seat and literally spinning me about, giggling like a mad man.

"Itachi-san sure got them, didn't he? Tobi would have gone, yes, but he did not get the chance! Those mean, old Grass ninja! Itachi sure showed them!"

Leaning over me as he all but danced me to Pein's side, I heard his voice lower to a black whisper and Pein stood.

"The defense has been heard. Our nation was ravaged by war, ruined and decimated. And when we at last had peace, we hid, wanting no part in the wars of others. We had peace. All we have ever wanted is peace."

The crowd faltered in its confidence, looking to their leader for guidance.

He gave it to them.

"But the peace we have built has been broken. _And Rain will not allow any other nation to trample on our peace again. _To act against our civilian leader, who has done nothing but work tirelessly to create ultimate peace in our world, for the benefit of Rain-"

The people stirred, and I didn't even have to rationalize what I'd done for a moment-because in a way, in a clever, cunning way, Pein was describing precisely what I had done.

"-such an act of violence against our beliefs, for no justifiable cause at all, _will not be tolerated_. We are not _weak_. We are not the war-torn country that we were once. We are a power in these lands, and if we must use that power to defend what we have built, we will."

Louder now, the crowd's mumblings were louder, clearer. Angrier. Inspired.

"Uchiha Itachi," Pein called, looking down at Itachi from the raised viewing dais on reserved for us, looking imperious and noble and every bit who he was to these people. Like the thousand, more, in the crowd, I held my breath.

"You and I will speak later. Take him away."

Kisame and Deidara took hold of him again and escorted him away, this time with utterly blank expressions on both of their faces. Pein turned back to the people with an expression of calm.

"We will show the world that _we are not weak_."

I was likely as breathless, as exhilarated as everyone in the crowd was, and suddenly, two hands were planted firm against my back.

"Prove your worth to me again, Ikite. Surprise me." Tobi commanded, his muffled whisper promising and dark from somewhere behind me. He pushed, and I nearly stumbled forward to take my place at Pein's side.

He did not look at me, but rather took my hand in a gesture intended to show the crowd the solidarity between us, between their beloved lord and the woman who was his heir, and moved me forward to speak.

The fire he had ignited in his people still raged within them, but not for me. They quieted down to listen, yes, and they looked on me with respect, it was true, but Pein was their _God_, and I was just the instrument of God.

It would be a very long time before I knew how utterly, fatalistically true that statement was. But at that moment, I had no time to dwell on it.

_Surprise me._

I heard his voice again in my head, and maybe Jashin's too, played over each other a thousand times until it was less a mockingly light suggestion and more of a _command_, an injunction that I couldn't _not_ obey.

_Surprise me,_ I heard again, my head pounding with the ache of foreign pressure crushing my own consciousness. So I stood a little straighter, and I did as I was told.

"The history of this village…is long and brutal…and built upon a foundation of pain, of utter anguish, beyond that of any other nation in this world, shinobi or otherwise.

They say that once, when this village was newly born and nameless still, this land was warm and bright, and promised a future as boundless as the ever-blue sky above it. And then…and then the other nations came, and warred on our land, and killed our people, and tore down what we had with our own hands wrought…

And with them, they brought sickness, and corruption, and darkness. And the sun stopped shining, and when the rain first came, it was the gods who wept, wept to see our glorious future razed to the ground by the greed of other men, wept for the people of our land, who suffered so needlessly, so much, and never stopped weeping.

They say that _that_ is how the village got its name, and look! Even now, it rains. The gods still weep for what we have lost, what we are losing, and what we might lose. We arethe rain. We are the grief of a thousand gods, and, if we are tested, we can be their wrath as well.

Rain calls only for peace. If other villages think that we will permit them to step on us to preserve our peace, then we will prove them wrong. We will fight."

I was gripping the railing of the dais as if it were a life-line now, lost in my impassioned speech, lost to anything but the sudden, fierce, fierce love I felt for my country.

"And we will show any that stand against us how easily the rain can be turned to storm."

For once, it was me the people cheered for, and as I stumbled back into unexpected arms, _he_ laughed in my mind again and though my very being was alight and thrumming with life, it was too much for my pounding head to take. I fell.

The Soul of a Genius/End.


	19. Scroll 19

**Chapter 19: The Farmer and the Weasel**

I was sitting on a plush armchair, perhaps a little tired, one of my hands a little absentmindedly stroking Obito Uchiha's hair. A fire danced quietly along great, dark logs in the hearth the living room was arranged around, and beneath my bare feet I felt a sinfully soft woolen carpet. I sighed, leaning back into my chair just a little bit.

I was warm…and content. For a moment, at least. But then, as I gazed softly down at the boy resting his head on my lap, I felt a sudden unease grip me. Why was I with Obito?

I…I wasn't sure. Not, at least, until I realized that the reason I was grasping for straws was precisely that. _There was no reason, whatsoever, that I should be with Obito._

He was dead. Long before I came to this world.

"I'm dreaming…" I murmured, pausing in my movements.

Obito looked up at me with innocent eyes.

"You stopped."

Something about his voice…was incredibly familiar. But who on earth did I know who could communicate a _pout_ through vocal inflection? Yeah, that's what I thought. No one.

"I…I need to go to the restroom, Tobi…" I said, easily if perhaps a little pointedly. I didn't even notice that I had said the wrong name.

He looked at me and there was something…_wrong_ in his eyes. In his whole face. Like…like half of it was somehow…not his face. But when I looked again, he looked just like he had before. I shrugged it off as he got up with a sigh and sat cross-legged at the foot of my chair, still watching me perhaps a little expectantly.

Somehow, I knew where to go and ended up in this ridiculously posh bathroom, splashing cool water onto my face as if it would somehow wake me up. I closed my eyes for a moment, and when I opened them, strangely, there was no reality. Still the same little cabin of luxury, and surely, outside in the living room, still a little boy that was dead.

Uneasy, I banished that thought and the others I was thinking and returned to my chair.

"I like you."

I jumped.

"O-Obito!" I exclaimed, trying to still my scared, stuttering heart. "I didn't see you there."

No, I hadn't. Because when I had come back into the room, he _wasn't there_.

"Sorry," he said cheerfully and rather remorselessly. He turned quite seriously to me then, scooting closer to the foot of my armchair where he sat cross-legged on the ground.

"I like you, Ikite. Like I liked Rin."

He frowned, and from behind me, a familiar voice echoed, "_like you, Ikite."_

I whirled around, the action somehow unnoticed by Obito, but there was nothing behind me. Nothing at all. And yet…Tobi's voice…it was so clear. Like he was as close to me as he had been when…when he had taken off his mask behind me.

"Do you?" I asked, my voice cracking just a bit as I floundered for something to say.

He nodded.

"I do. It's just…I don't know what to do."

"_Don't know what to do."_

I cringed at the echo, on the other side of me now, coming from so close to just behind my ear, I could all but feel the breath with which it was whispered.

"A-About what, Obito?"

He turned to face me, and his face flickered and changed. Half of it was…something else. Something I hadn't seen before. But just as quick as it came, it was gone, and I hadn't realized I'd stepped back in scared revulsion until he was a child again, fully a child.

"It was easy, you know…"

"_Easy."_

"When I just…wanted you," he continued, averting his eyes from mine, cheeks flushing pink, utterly and entirely unaware of the voice that was echoing his.

"_Wanted you_."

There was nothing I could say in answer to that. He didn't give me the chance, though, but barreled on, frustrated in the way of a twelve year old boy…

"But then…I started to, you know, like you a little."

"_Like you? Ha._"

"And then a little more."

"_More."_

"I like it when you laugh. Hate it, too."

"_Like it. Hate it."_

"I don't know what to do with myself when you laugh."

"_What to do, what to do."_

It was with a fast dawning horror that I realized that the boy before me was changing as he spoke. In great, rapid flickers, from the boy I had seen in the manga, to half that boy, half some strange clay-like substance…I watched his hair waver between familiarity and some long shock of raven-black hair. And he grew. Short, then tall, then not as short, and suddenly taller still. And I didn't have any space to move farther away from him.

"You've only laughed in front of me once, you know."

"_Once."_

"I'm just a boy," he said, looking suddenly young and innocent again. "A boy who doesn't know what to do around the girl he likes."

And he changed again, and suddenly it was no longer Obito who had come right up to me and pulled me into a desperate hug, it was Tobi, and he had caught me like a rat and he was never going to let me go.

"_He's just a boy, Ikite. __**Just**__ a __**boy**__, who can't reconcile his feelings for you with the man he has become. Love is for fools. It does nothing for anyone, not for him, not for Rin, and it will do nothing for you."_

I tried to push him away, but he was too strong. In retaliation, he pressed his mask right into my cheek, so much so that if he hadn't been wearing it, his voice would still have been muffled and I would feel every movement of his lips against my skin.

"_The child, Ikite. Warped and wasted…__**saved**__. Saved from a lifetime of blindness. He sacrificed the most precious things he had for people who would never appreciate or understand him. And then __**he**__ came, the bitter old man, saved him, and turned him to greater purpose."_

"Purpose…!" Echoed the faraway voice of the excitable young shinobi who had taught Kakashi Hatake the most valuable lesson he would ever learn.

"_So he grew, became a man, a weapon, a genius. And inside, no matter how deeply buried he's become, he lives, a little piece of humanity in the man who stands above humanity."_

"He lives, _I _live."

I felt as if he was going to say something more, but he suddenly broke away from me-sweet, _sweet_ relief-and straightened, as if he had heard something. Then, his shoulders hunched in a rather suddenly predatory manner, he turned back to me.

"_It appears I must leave you, Wife."_ He said, glancing towards the closed shutters of the window as he said it, and I started at being addressed as…as that.

I opened my mouth to tell him that quite frankly, I had no problem whatsoever with him taking his leave of me, but the strangest sensation came over me, like my tongue was slowly being turned to lead in my mouth, and what I meant to say came out very, _very_ differently.

"Must you, Husband? You know how much I worry when you're out so late."

_Worry? _If he left and had the decency not to come back, I'd be _relieved_! I-

Something stopped my complaints right then in my mind, some vestige of humanity that hadn't been methodically ripped from me yet, and I regretted my words. I didn't want him to die. I just…I wanted to be safe from him, where he couldn't…mess with my mind like he did. I knew exactly why he did it. It was a way of reminding me where I stood, I knew. Asserting physical dominance, conditioning me to be hyperaware of his superiority. And it worked.

Yes, I wanted him away from me. But I didn't want him dead.

"Don't worry, dear one. Our friend Weasel has agreed to stay with you until I return."

And as I looked at him, disturbed at his sugary tone, Itachi appeared out of nowhere. And, once again, the words that spilled from my mouth were not my own.

"Mr. Weasel! How nice it is to see you again!"

He nodded an affirmative to me, and then Tobi was gone.

_**The Weasel, Ikite. Do you remember this tale, and how it ends?**_

I jumped at the sound of Jashin's voice in my head, and Itachi looked at me in concern, as if the cozy house around us, a place that reeked of home, of comfort, was actually real.

"Are you frightened, Friend? You should not be, I did promise Farmer I would protect you."

_**The Weasel. The Farmer. His Wife. Who else?**_

I was standing and I didn't even realize it.

"The Child! There was a child, the Farmer and his Wife, they both left! And the Weasel-the Mongoose-he stayed behind to watch the baby! But-"

I looked around like a mad woman.

"There is no baby. It's just me and Itachi, after all, Obi-"

Obito. He wasn't there. Was he the child?

_**Finally, you recognize it. In that case…let's speed things along, shall we?**_

Even as Itachi opened his mouth to ask me something, (probably if I was alright), everything stilled and then moved all at once around me. It was dizzying, the way colors spun about me, as time was fast-forwarded. I stumbled when it stopped, and then, nearly screamed.

"Stay very still…_Ikite_."

Itachi was standing before me with his head tilted forward in a way that exaggerated the shadows over his eyes, and I instinctively stiffened, obeying. He had said my name. He had said _my name,_ not Friend, or Farmer's Wife, or anything like that. My name. Ikite.

Feeling oddly like I had before _that incident_, as I referred to my time of captivity in my mind, I did as he asked, and _as an added bonus,_ was silent.

"You…" Itachi muttered, taking a defensive stance as a snake of gargantuan proportion slithered into the room.

It hissed, and in perfect trust, I stood stock still and closed my eyes.

"Child!" the Snake spat from somewhere above me.

"You will try to prevent me, and you will fail. Die now for your impudence."

There was a sudden rush of movement and then sudden, sudden silence, and I felt something startlingly warm drip onto my face, and flinched when that warmth grew to a burning that made me cry out as I felt it sizzle against my skin.

"It's over, Ikite."

I hadn't been aware that I had stumbled until I felt my form collide with his as I wiped blindly at my face with the sleeve of my robe.

"I-Itachi-"

"It's over."

I had never loved a monotone voice so much as I did in that moment.

He wiped at my face with a cool, damp cloth, and I leaned into his touch, my mind reeling. The Weasel killed the Snake. Apparently, I was the Child now, instead of the Farmer's Wife. So…so I had to make sure that I didn't leave him.

So long as I stayed with him, it would be fine.

_**Come now, Ikite. You can't possibly be frightened. It's not as if you were ever in any **_**danger, **_**after all.**_

I reeled away from 'Tachi, clamping my hands over my head at the sudden loudness of Jashin's voice in my head.

"Stop it…Stop it, please!"

_**Have you looked at your hero, little one? Seen him as he really is?**_

I didn't want to, not after he had told me to in _that_ voice, but I did.

Itachi was standing as if frozen in the middle of reaching for me, and I blanched and felt suddenly sick when I realized that he was covered, _covered_ in blood, with a glint of crazy in his otherwise expressionless eyes.

There was so much blood on his face, the only part of him I could actually see _was_ his eyes, dull and brilliant all at once, distorted by my sudden perception of him. Bored, because killing the Snake, which I knew, deep in my mind, to have been _human_ somehow, and…and manic, because, well, _what kind of being could kill like that, so ruthlessly, so easily?_

_**Had you forgotten, Ikite? That those you hold so dear are all killers, soulless monsters that exist solely for one purpose?**_

"Why are you showing me this?" I asked, sinking to the floor in abrupt and vicious tiredness.

_**Because it's **_**amusing**_**. **_

I wanted to cry.

_**But anyway, I think it's time to cut to the next scene. **_

I knew what he was going to do before he did it, and cried out some unintelligible note directed at the Itachi that was frozen and never finished it, because the next thing I knew, I was huddled in a dark corner of a cramped room.

"No. _No._"

I was scrambling towards the door before I was really even aware of the action.

"Itachi! Itachi come find me! If you don't-"

The lock clicked shut, and _he_ laughed in my head.

"You'll die…"

The Farmer would come home and find the blood, and the Child missing…and he would kill the Weasel, who had saved all that he held dear.

And even as I slumped to the ground in defeat, I found myself spirited away to the place where I had been standing before, and saw Itachi sitting calmly on the ground, as if waiting. If I acted now, perhaps I could still-

"Itachi! Go find me! I'm locked in a room! You have to come get me! If you don't-"

He couldn't hear me, I realized as I watched his expression remain unchanged. I had shouted so loudly, with so much panic in my voice, that it should have startled him. Especially him, being so sensitive to his surroundings as he was. Even if he had known I was there, for me to disturb the peace so suddenly…

_**That's cheating, Ikite. You have to play the game **_**properly**_**.**_

I never got the chance to answer because in that moment, the door swung open and a man I had never lain eyes on in person strode into the room.

"_How_?"

I didn't register the conversation for a few moments, so shocked was I at _that man's_ appearance. Madara. Uchiha Madara. All I could do was watch as he scanned the bloodied Itachi with scarlet eyes, and tremble when the room grew cold.

Noiseless horror overturned my stomach as I saw his image blur in movement so quick my own eyes couldn't register it, and blood spurt suddenly from Itachi's throat as his body fell suddenly to the ground.

"No! No, no, no, no, no, _no_!"

And then the world shifted around me and I was in that corner again, babbling incoherently about the Snake as the door was kicked in somewhere in front of me.

"Wife!"

I was lifted as if I were a doll and crushed into the red chest plate of his armor.

"Husband! Husband, the Snake! It was here!"

The sounds coming out of my mouth did not match the movement of my lips. If they did, I would have been screaming.

"Weasel saved me, Husband. I-"

"Weasel is dead. I killed him in a fit of anger, for I had thought you lost."

"No, he saved me!"

_**Alright, **_**sweetheart**_**, you know how the rest of this story goes.**_

Everything was frozen suddenly in place and the ridiculous cabin melted to nothingness around me and I was suddenly free of the script and found myself screaming my lungs out as I dropped to my knees on the floor. I had been fighting, I realized somewhere distantly as I tried to reconnect my consciousness to my body. I had been fighting much harder than I realized, and now that I was free, I hadn't figured out how to stop.

"Why?" I croaked, when I finally regained the sense to speak. "Why are you showing me this?"

He didn't answer me, and the room started to spin into nothingness around me.

_**You won't remember this, little Child-Wife of the Devil, but don't say I didn't warn you.**_

I had the strangest sensation of his voice growing farther and farther away, as if he had been standing directly behind me and had walked away, humming a strangely familiar song that I might have recognized instantly were it not for the sinister edge he'd given it.

The next thing I knew I had bolted upright in bed, once again in my room, in Rain, and without any sort of reason, softly sang the next line of a song I hadn't heard in a lifetime.

The Farmer and the Weasel/End.


	20. Scroll 20

**Chapter 20: Snake in the Grass**

I don't know what it was, but I felt a sudden urge to get my ass into gear and get back to work. Not that I hadn't been working, I suppose, but I had been too focused on scheming with Tobi that I felt that I had missed things in the greater scheme of things.

I had to balance, to juggle between giving Tobi what he wanted and plotting my next moves well enough to stay ahead. And I was currently falling behind.

"Who are you?" I muttered to myself, sitting on the edge of my bed, my back to the window as I foolishly assumed I hadn't woken 'Maro simply because he hadn't stirred.

That was the next mystery to solve. Who is Tobi? I knew he wasn't Madara. Of that, at least, I could be sure. There was no guarantee that he even _was_ an Uchiha, since I suppose he could have just had his eye transplanted, but…

I had a feeling in the pit of my stomach that screamed it.

There were numerous theories that had been floating around on the internet about who Tobi really was. I mean, other than the traditional Tobito theory that I had fully supported in middle school. Though I had discounted it on the grounds that, well, Tobi had his entire body and Obito had been _crushed under a mountain of rocks_, not to mention from what I had seen of Tobi's face, he was considerably too old to be Obito. Obito was Kakashi's age, right? It didn't add up.

People had speculated that he was Izuna, Shisui, hell, even Fugaku. Since I knew what Shisui's main Mangekyo ability was, I felt comfortable discounting him. Tobi's ability was, as far as I knew, remarkably, remarkably similar to Kakashi's, so I wouldn't discount Obito as a possibility…Seeing as Madara, having been resurrected, was essentially confirmed to have died probably way back when, I felt the need to lean towards Izuna as his identity.

After all, how would someone without first hand experience know so much about the real Madara in the first place? Tobi knew way too much about Madara to not be him or someone who witnessed what happened.

And hey, lots of people who die come back in Naruto, or supposedly come back, or are supposedly killed but are actually alive. Probably. It was possible.

I considered things along this vein of thought for an hour, maybe more, until I at last came to the tentative conclusion that Tobi might be Izuna. It didn't sit right in my mind, but it was better than not knowing. I was rather of the mind that Tobi might also be some other unknown character, I suppose it was less of a long shot than assuming he was Izuna.

There was a niggling feeling in the back of my mind that…maybe we had all been right, when Tobi had first been introduced, but it was discarded quickly, if uneasily.

And then that train of thought, taken and expanded and expounded upon, too was discarded and I lay back down and tried to push all scheming from my mind to get some of the sleep I suddenly felt I so desperately needed.

I awoke, almost disturbingly, to the tentative brushing of soft fingertips against the part of my shoulder left bare by my night-dress, and felt a split-second of panic until I realized who it could only be.

"Your fingers are so smooth, 'Maro."

The movement stopped for a moment, before just as hesitantly starting again.

"You sound surprised…" He murmured, so quietly I might have missed it.

I resisted the urge to shrug.

"I suppose…I might have expected them to be callused, since you're a ninja and all."

I turned my head briefly so that I could glance at him out of the corner of my eye, noticing what was for a man a stoic as him the equivalent of a small smile.

"No…the bones, they tear. And the skin rebuilds over it. Can't build calluses that way."

I nodded, though it might have looked a bit strange seeing as he was looking at the back of my head. After that, we fell silent for a moment, and then a moment more, until finally 'Maro apparently manned up enough to tell me what was really going through his mind.

"You were dreaming," he said, and the frown that must have been on his face was evident in his voice. "You were dreaming all night, and I thought that-"

He didn't finish and he didn't need to, because I knew what it was that he meant by it. He was comforting me, in his own way, perhaps, but he was trying all the same. I let out a soft, "ah," and didn't say anything else for a few minutes, not wanting to make the admission anymore awkward for him or for me.

He had stopped by that point, sitting perhaps a little morosely on the edge of the bed, no doubt wondering what it was that I was dreaming about, and why I wouldn't tell him. Not that he had asked, but the question was there, bold as brass, evident in his expression.

"I don't remember, exactly." I said, telling the truth.

It was hazy, just out of reach, like it had been designed so that I would only remember parts of it when the right trigger ripped the memory from my subconscious to the front of my mind. It was not a pleasant feeling.

"You woke during the night, and it seemed you were thinking about something."

More underlying questions, seeping through his tone.

"Yes. I was thinking about something else, though. Trying to put the pieces together before I start drowning in them," I explained vaguely, and the frown on my face at the end must have told him what he wanted to know because the subject was dropped entirely.

It was, at least, until breakfast was done, and he had helped me into my favorite bottle-green kimono, and pinned my hair up with a comb of priceless pearl.

"Ikite…"

I glanced up from my sadly traditionally Japanese breakfast and pushed away the thought of how desperately I suddenly craved a taste of home away. Well, it didn't matter. The food I'd eaten wasn't bad, of course. I just…I just felt a little homesick.

The thought was stomped out as I turned back to my white-haired companion.

"Yes, 'Maro?"

He watched me for a moment before tearing his eyes from mine and looking forward again, away from me. "What does getting 'caught in the rain' mean?"

My heart hammered to a desperate stop in my throat.

"_What?_"

"You…sang. When you woke, you very softly sang '_and getting caught in the_-"

"Stop," I pleaded, feeling suddenly sick. "Don't 'Maro, just leave it. Please. _Please_. I…I had a dream, that's all."

That's all, I reassured myself. I couldn't remember it, not all of it, but I wanted, no, I desperately, desperately _needed_ to go to Itachi. I could feel touches of darkness clinging to the edges of my mind, and as far as I knew, there was only one way to explain that.

Jashin. Whatever I had dreamt, it was him behind it. I couldn't remember, but I had a sinking feeling that I would remember when it became important. Which translated, essentially, to when there was nothing I could do to change things.

"Kimimaro, I want to see Itachi."

He nodded, his face so emptied of emotion, I couldn't read it. Leaving the breakfast tray behind for someone else to deal with, we ventured out. The last time I had been out of my room, was at Itachi's trial.

As such, the relief of realizing 'Maro was taking me to his room and not to a holding cell hit me with the force a blow to the stomach, and I fought the urge to run the last few steps down the hall. I succeeded, but I knocked more swiftly and insistently that I likely should have.

The door opened so quickly I surmised he had used ninja-speed to get to it.

"Ikite."

There was so much that I wanted to say, I didn't know where to start. I was saved freezing up by 'Maro, who expressionlessly dismissed himself so that we would have privacy. It wasn't until he had left that it occurred to me at last that Itachi and I needed to have a serious discussion, and that had it not been for 'Maro's discretion, I wouldn't have realized it.

"Are you unwell?" He asked me, his voice low, hesitant.

I glanced at him in surprise and quickly assured him, "No, I'm…I'm fine."

His motioned deeper into the dark of his dimly lit room and I followed, keeping my gaze to the floor so that he wouldn't catch me staring at him like he was an animal at the zoo. Although…what had been seen could never be unseen. The Grass ninja…I didn't understand. I wasn't sure that I wanted to, ever. But there was something strange about this Itachi, something I did not know, and it was wild and animalistic.

Perhaps I would have been right to look at him like that, because when I risked a glance up as I sat on the very edge of his mattress, his dark eyes were on me, and I remembered quite suddenly the look that had been in them the last time I had seen them.

No, not the last time. The last time as at the trial. So when…?

_**Have you looked at your hero, little one? Seen him as he really is?**_

_Itachi was standing as if frozen in the middle of reaching for me, and I blanched and felt suddenly sick when I realized that he was covered, covered in blood, with a glint of crazy in his otherwise expressionless eyes. _

_**Had you forgotten, Ikite? **_

…_because, well, what kind of being could kill like that, so ruthlessly, so easily?_

_**That those you hold so dear are all killers, soulless monsters that exist solely for-**_

"_Why are you showing me this?" _

Ikite-ikite-_ikite-ikite-_**ikite-**_**ikite-IKITE-IKITE-**_**IKITE-IKITE**_**-**_

I was startled into sudden consciousness by someone taking my hand in theirs and holding it, and suddenly, my mind was void of any and all thought. Confused, I looked down at my hand and his, and followed his arm up to his shoulder, trailed my eyes from shoulder to neck to jaw to cheek and at last to his eyes.

"Itachi-"

That's right, I was in Itachi's room. I had come…I had come because…

"You claim to be well, but your face is so pale. Is it…fear? Did you look at what I did and feel repulsed, terrified, ashamed? Do you fear me now, because you have seen the truth of what I am, looked into the heart of me and found a soulless monster?"

"_Why are you showing me this?" _

_**Had you forgotten, Ikite? **_

"_No_," I called softly. "No, never."

The vehement undercurrent of my tone belied its hesitance, and in turned created a spark of thought in the utterly blank abyss that was my mind. Fear him? He was Itachi. Itachi, who I had spent countless, countless afternoons with. Itachi, who I had eaten stick after stick of dango with, drank cup after cup of tea. Itachi, who had always been my friend.

"You're not a monster, Itachi. Never. Everything you've done you've done for good, for Sasuke. How can you think that about yourself?"

I moved my free hand to cover his on mine in an attempt to convey my sincerity to him, but he caught it in one of his and flipped it over so that my palm, like my other hand's, was up.

"I was…angry, Ikite."

He was staring at our hands so intensely, I found my own gaze drawn towards them as well, and I wondered if he was looking at them and comparing the blood that stains them both.

"For the first time in a long time, I was angry."

His eyes closed and I could see him lose himself to memory.

"I was angry, and I acted. I did not intend…to do what I did. I meant to watch, only, to observe. But that…anger…it burned. So I confronted them. Again…I did not mean…to do what I did. I meant to bring them back. But I was angry, and it burned."

Not right. _Not right_, my instincts shrieked. '_Itachi was a peaceful man who hated war,'_ I repeated in my mind. This was wrong. Wrong, wrong, _wrong._ Angry? Angry enough to slaughter a contingent of Grass ninja for no reason, with no orders? That was not Itachi. There was no way that could ever be the Itachi I knew, who had ruined himself for peace.

"Ikite, is it true that you will go to Orochimaru?"

The subject change was so swift, my eyes shot up to meet his. I was stumbling over my words when I answered him. "Yes. For tea. He sent me an invitation, and I-"

"Please arrange for me to accompany you."

I nodded, and Itachi watched me for a few moments before he was satisfied and returned my gesture with a minute, barely there tilting of his head.

He might have told her then what he had found in Grass, what his suspicions were…but he did not. He needed more information in any case, and what better way to infiltrate Orochimaru's headquarters than as a guest?

Likewise, after all that had happened…though he did not yet accept the future she was working towards as a reality that would come, she had become a central part of his life. A confidant, a friend. She had cut into the heart of him and ensconced herself there, and he knew her for what she really was.

She was a scared little girl, and she was all that he had left, his only hope for Sasuke and the only person he could be true with. He would go with her, because he couldn't imagine being left behind, and if Orochimaru was truly behind the actions of Grass, _he_ _would kill him_.

"Itachi?"

He turned his gaze on her then, letting those dark eyes soften almost imperceptibly as he explained his silence. "I apologize…I was lost in my thoughts."

Well if that isn't the biggest load of bullshit I've ever heard. I nodded though, as if I wasn't really, _really_ curious and let my eyes fall to my lap. And after a suitable length of time, I got up to leave. Ever the gentleman, he walked me to his door, and we paused there for a moment, and whatever impulse had bidden me so urgently to visit him made me throw my arms around him, too. I didn't cry, I had no reason to. But he was warm and so very alive, and that mattered very much to me at that moment in time.

"I'm so glad you're alright, 'Tachi! I'm so, _so_ glad. I thought…I thought-"

I didn't finish telling him what I thought because I wasn't exactly sure what that was, but he let me hug him, and gently placed his arms around my shoulders.

"I'm fine, Ikite. Remember, when you go to Orochimaru," he began, holding me at arm's length so that he could look me in the eye. I nodded in answer to an unspoken question and attempted to assure him, saying, "take you with me, I know."

He smiled, and I forgot for a moment that there was something strange with him.

"Good. Don't forget."

I mimicked his expression softly and stepped gingerly out of his doorway. Right as I moved to turn around, though, his hand fell on my shoulder and I looked back at him, perplexed. "Itachi?" I questioned, perhaps a little unsurely, but that…that glint in his eye that scared me wasn't there, and he seemed his normal self.

"If you aren't permitted to take me with you," he started softly, calming me with the low familiarity of his smooth voice, "_don't go_. Don't go, Ikite, because your Kimimaro can't protect you from the whole world, no matter how much he's trained with Sasori and I. And whoever else you take will protect you as long as they are ordered to and no longer and would kill you without a second thought. You should fear them as much as you fear Orochimaru."

Kimimaro had been training with _Sasori_ and _Itachi_? For how long? I hadn't known. How did 'Maro even know Sasori? No, those questions were better stored away until Kimimaro would answer them himself. I swallowed, hard, when the rest of what Itachi was saying to me truly sunk in. I knew I couldn't trust any of the Akatsuki. I knew that. But he was telling me, essentially, that I could trust _him_, that he wouldn't betray me.

"You would have done better to stay away from _that_ man entirely. He's dangerous, and you interest him. Now go. I'm sure you have many things to arrange."

I nodded and that was that.

"Well, Ikite? What do _you_ think?" Tobi leaning casually back in his seat as if to remind me that I was such a little, practically inconsequential threat that he could be utterly, completely relaxed in my presence. As if I could ever forget.

He was testing me, again.

"It's early. Perhaps too early."

It was _way_ to early, if we were going to stick to the plan. Way, _way_ too early, but I was being cautious and diplomatic in the way I said so. I carefully watched his fingers as he tapped them on the desk before him. I had long since learned that the best way to read him, other than carefully, _carefully_ observing the undercurrents of emotion in his voice, was to watch what he did with his hands.

His fingers drummed against the desk just once, and then he tapped out a rhythm of four with his index finger, once that was confident and quick, which I chose to interpret as triumph. Yes, he had known what my answer would be…

"There would be many unaccounted for variables if we were to act prematurely. No, it would be better to deal with Grass discreetly and decisively. Leaf is the only village that might have objected, and obviously the _Third Hokage_ will brook no argument. In any case we have a strong case, and no one will want to move against us."

He traced circles idly, seductively on the polished wood of the desk as silence reigned between us, then: "It's very _convenient_, having a reason to move against Grass."

My blood ran cold as his fingers abruptly stopped.

"It is," I stated warily. I didn't know what he wanted, what he meant, and I wasn't going to give him anything he could use against me. "Although if you want to instigate war with the other nations the same way, I would prefer not to be the victim again."

I was nearly shaking at the thought but I hid it well with my easy tone.

"All will proceed as planned," he said in answer, something dark and lingering in his tone. "And Grass will be subjugated and joined to Rain."

Some primordial part of me bared its teeth and roared in exultation in my head upon hearing this. We would tear Grass apart, raze it to the ground and drag it willing or no into our dominion. I wanted that place to _hurt_, I wanted them to feel _terror_ and _desperation_ as I had, I wanted to drive that bone-knife into the flesh of that country and watch it _bleed_.

My thoughts frightened me and I pushed them back. Grass was a country, it was true, but there were people there, _innocent people_, and even the shinobi who had taken me were innocent. It was one man and one man alone that had given the order for me to be taken, and though I didn't know who he was or why he had done it, he would be the one to pay.

"There's hatred in your eyes, Ikite, and ruin on your tongue. Tell me," Tobi urged, his voice ablaze with something sinister and promising, "_tell me what it is you want_."

When he had moved, I did not know, but he was behind me then, gloved hands on my shoulders, his voice so close to my ear, it sent a shiver down my spine. I twisted in his grip so I could face him, tilting my face up to his mask so that I could look him in that blazing scarlet eye as I answered. And he laughed, laughed at my request, and _agreed_.

Snake in the Grass/End.


End file.
